


Succession

by MissLunaTick



Series: Clan Mudhorn [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Armor Kink, Breeding, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Force Powers, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Mando'a, Oral Sex, Politics, Post Season 1, Romance, Set between season 1and 2, Sexual Roleplay, Slow Burn, The Dadalorian, Vaginal Sex, family by choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 131,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21979879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissLunaTick/pseuds/MissLunaTick
Summary: Part of the code is for Mandalorians to come to each other's aide. Din, a foundling wears the armor of her people, and she needs his help to save them all. As a descendant of Tarre Vizsla the Mandalorian Jedi, Andora might be able to help Din find a way for the child to be reunited with his people. Tracking the Jedi with her contacts in the academic world should be an easy mission, to bad she dragged a war along with her.Mandalorians are a fractured culture, with their warrior clans few in number and their peaceful people just wishing to be free from outsider rule. It's a war for the future of Mandalorian culture, the divisions going deep and wounds that have not healed, but they must stand together or loose divided.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Clan Mudhorn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086806
Comments: 46
Kudos: 191





	1. A cry in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> I will respond to reviews in notes so my review numbers don't get inflated.  
> Need someone to help check for typos and errors. I keep seeing them but when I go to fix they vanish. 
> 
> Sexy stuff starts in chapter ten.  
> Was originally rated M but I think just going for E gives me some more wiggle room in terms of what I can write.

Being cleared with the guild made his life marginally easier but the kid was still a wanted asset. Not by the guild, but the black market was still handing out fobs. Getting rid of the imperial bought him time, but it also attracted the New Republic’s eyes and ears. It had been glorious to see the Mandalorians out in full force, a bittersweet memory of his own rescue. Watching them fill the sky, armor glinting in the light before raining down blaster fire. All of them out, for this speck of a child. He wished he stayed, or insist they left planet with him. Now it was him and the kid. Clan Mudhorn.

As he landed on the new planet he had the child in the floating carrier that Kuiil had built. It was sturdy and comfortable. First he would need to get some broth to feed the kid and then start looking for leads on the Jedi. Sitting at the counter he and the kid were waiting for the vendor to turn around with the meal, the news was playing on the Holonet the vendor had on in the background. He usually ignored the news since it never involved him, but when the news started broadcasting about a story unfolding on Mandalore he couldn’t help but turn his attention to it. He had never been to Mandalore but it was the homeworld of the Way he followed, so he felt that he should at least pay attention to it. 

With the fall of the Empire there was unrest once more on Mandalore, the ‘new’ mandalorians trying to establish a stable government but there were factions that were threatening civil war again. People of the planet had been haggarded by the Empire, and many were calling for a return of a Mand’alor to unite them all once more, the pacifists strongly oppose the passing of the title to another but to the people were tired of being oppressed and believed a return to the Way and a resurgence of the warrior Houses would prevent them from being conquered anymore. It was showing a clip of the speeches being given by the Pacifist leader Senator Buma Ordot, hammering hard on the warning that a re-glorification of battle could lead to the end of their people. The other speaker was a man that made Din’s skin crawl under his armour. The man was wearing a crisp uniform, and had a sigil branded into his face, Restorationist Goz Kahl. The man was speaking highly of the warrior mandalorians, but there was something off in the man’s words. It felt hollow, and it fed off the fears of people terrified of being subjugated, it didn’t respect the Way. Since taking the kid in, Din was finding himself able to pick up on these kind of things more, and he had been pretty good about it as part of his job before. Maybe being a father was making him even more alert to the foul intentions of others towards those weaker than himself. 

The next interviewee was a woman, the description scrolling along underneath listed her as a historian from Mandalore’s capital city museum. She was standing next to a very impressive helmet, made from painted beskar. She was speaking about the historical importance of the Mand’alor title, and how it had been used for great and terrible things based on who the mantle bearer was. When asked if she supported the return of a Mand’alor she hesitated, weighing her words as she looked in reverence to the helmet. The broth was brought for the kid and he moved the kid closer to help support the little guy while he ate. 

“I would only support the return of a Mand’alor if they had a vision for our future. Not just the tangible future, but for the longevity of our people, warrior and pacifist alike. We may be scattered not just by houses and clans, but to systems. The Way has been tested over and over by our enemies and ourselves alike. When forging beskar it must first go through the crucible. Our generations of lost and misfortune have burned away our families and left just a few of us, ready to pour into the mold. The Mand’alor is like the smith. They choose what mold we would be put in. I would only support a Mand’alor that would forge us together.” The woman wore no helmet but Din could hear her honesty and passion. She believed in the honor of the Way, even if she herself did not walk it. 

“As a relative of the Death Watch supported Mand’alor Pre Vizsla you sound in support of the warrior way returning.” The newscaster driod said, and the woman’s eyes widened with horror and then hardened with displeasure. 

“NEVER say that name to me. He was a member of my house, but he is no Mand’alor to me. He was a selfish man, refusing to accept that the people did not want him. His choices weakened us, left us vulnerable when we needed strength. He served himself, no honor was found in his plotting with a crime syndicate to usurp the title. He brought shame to the greatness of House Vizsla, from whom Tarre Vizsla arose, the Mand’alor Jedi.” That caught Din’s attention. “That is whose blood is in my veins. That is who house Vizsla is. An Honorable warrior who was connected to not just his people but to all.” The interview cut away and started talking about more mundane topics and he turned to see the kid was already done eating. It was one of the tenants that those who follow the Way have to obey the commands of a Mand’alor, but since he had been taken in, there had not been one. Paying his bill Din stood up, the kid once more in the carrier as he walked without purpose. Seemed like he was heading to Mandalore to talk with the historian for any leads she could give him. 

* * *

She was trembling from the aftermath of her vision. Tears running down her face as the horrific screams and images lingered like a fog in her mind. The battle hymns of her ancestors burial tomb starkly absent as her meditation came to an end. The fear was so great, her heart racing. She could not allow the vision to pass. It would be the end of Honor, the end of Mandalore, the death of her people. Forcing herself to stand she drew her cloak near, hoping the physical warmth could restore the feeling to her numbed mind. Walking from the tomb she once more sealed it away, it hidden out in the cliff face across the desert of her home. She wore a life support system, the world no longer fit to live on, tainted by Sith hands and her own people’s senseless deaths. Riding the speeder back to the biodome of the capital she quickly changed from her robes and support system to the more common dress expected in Sundari. She wore a flowing gown, the fabric draped across her body, the gown delicate and mostly sheer, the body tight under clothing proving she held no weapons. Everything in the city was a blur as she moved forward, following the instincts guiding her. She spoke to no one she knew as she passed, almost in a trance. As she returned to her place of work, she ascended the marble steps briskly. She had to act now, least she be too late. Going to her office she retrieved the key for the display, heart pounding louder within her ears, hearing the faint hum of her ancestors encouraging her. 

She disarmed the security system, waving the guards off, but knowing her weak manipulation would fade soon. Turning the key she unlocked the case, placing the helmet within her satchel. Opening her data pad she quickly sent out a message, hoping it would arrive before the wrong conclusions were made. Leaving out a side entrance she quickly hailed a ride to the nearest bank, pulling out every last credit she had to her name, and taking a different speeder to the space port. Buying a cheap ship with a pilot droid. As she began takeoff there was a massive explosion from the museum, the trance like state she had been under falling away as she turned to look back. The droid was finished calculating out the hyperspeed route and was preparing to jump to lightspeed, and she whispered a small prayer for the people she was leaving behind. Hopefully they had escaped before the blast. The ship made the jump before the dome closed down to secure the city, the woman crying softly as she hoped she had bought more time. It was the only way.

* * *

A holonet news broadcast was playing at the restaurant the next day, the kid getting on another batch of broth. Din was waiting on the local guild to have a batch of bounties for him to keep fueled and fed while he made his trip to investigate the lead he had now. It was a problematic mission since he couldn’t go to the planet surface in armor, but hopefully he could reach out to her through the communications system. 

“The Mandalorian armor and weapons historian, Andora Vizsla, was last seen with the relic of the Mand’alor Tarre Vizsla before the explosion. A warning signal was sent out to evacuate the building, but inside were the remains of two guards, both men having been killed by blade slashes to the throat. She has gone missing, but is wanted as a person of interest in the case. Her home was found ransacked, and her accounts empty. Information leading to her whereabouts or those of the relic is being requested by both of the political parties here on Mandalore. Due to her status as a Mandalorian, and the deaths of the guards, civilians are cautioned to treat her as armed and dangerous, reporting her to new republic patrols and to not approach.” 

Din was not going to give up that easy. Not when he finally had a lead on someone that might have a lead for him. 

* * *

She was not sure how long the ship had been in hyperspace, but suddenly the ship jerked roughly to a halt, sending her to the ship floor, grunting in pain as she forced herself to stand again. 

“A little warning next time, organics need to compensate for the deceleration.” She tried to correct the droid politely. Looking out the window she could see a planetary body. “Are we getting ready to descend?” 

“Negative, When exiting hyperspace transmission from the New Republic was received, your chain code matches a suspect and protocol dictates we will wait for a patrol unit to come collect you and tow me back to the starport.” No! This was not supposed to happen. She needed to get further away, at least to another planet so she could escape. Stupid Droid! 

“Please, please Droid, I am begging you, finish taking me where I asked! You don’t understand. This is more important than protocol! My people are at stake! Please, millions of lives are endangered. You have to help me.” 

“Concerns recorded. Statements will be provided to Patrol unit taking custody of you. Please get on your knees and hands behind your head to make your arrest more efficient.” 

“Droid...Finish taking me to the planet’s surface or I will...I will, I will destroy you and take manual control.” Her voice was trembling. She didn’t want to hurt the droid, it was just doing it’s programming but… one life for many. 

“Threat recorded, use of containment protocols allowed.” The ships life support systems were turning down, the oxygen level lowering, designed to be low enough that she would pass out. Panic set in and she reached for a loose metal pipe, screaming with adrenaline as she rushed and stabbed the droid, the metal being wailing in pain and she reared up and brought the weapon down once more. She managed to destroy the droids power core, tossing it out of the driving seat and trying to bring the life support systems back online. Looking down at the planet’s surface she gripped the steering and prayed to her ancestors for their protection, directing the ship down into the atmosphere. As the ship descended she was struggling to breathe, the oxygen lower and lower, her vision getting blurry. She focused and slipped into the meditation, the sound of her heart beat the pounding drum of the battle hymn in her soul. Her breathing calmed even as her heart raced, her hands moving with the guidance of her ancestors. The windshield was ablaze with the reentry heat as she plummeted towards the planet below, the oxygen was too low now..her vision going black, but still her hands moved, the ship decreasing speed, landing gear out, and--

The ship dragged violently along the planet's surface. When it finally came to a stop she dragged her injured body from the wreckage, the trance of her meditation giving her the strength to limp from the ship, the fresh air rushing into her lungs. The forest ahead of her whispered with the wind, her limping footsteps surprisingly sturdy as the drum beat of her heart and the will of the ancestors pushed her forward. The droplets of blood from injuries trailing her, but she didn’t care. Finally her body was beyond its limits, the ancestors could do no more for her in this moment. She slumped against the strong trunk of a tree, the surrounding brush providing her some measure of cover, sleep welcoming her as she clutched her bag to her battered body. 

* * *

Din had prepared for his next hunt, repairing and restocking his weapons, more food rations for him, the kid and possibly the woman. Fuel and carbonite refilled as well. He had gone to the guild house to check if any one had placed a bounty or had any leads on his new quarry and some jobs he could get done along the way. So far as anyone could tell, she hadn’t even made it out of the Mandalore system. The ship she had been traveling on waiting for a New Republic patrol pickup before it’s signal vanished. Setting the new destination for her last known coordinates he lifted off, the kid happily rolling the shiny metal orb between small green fingers in his pram. 

“Kid, I hope you know how much work I am going through for you.” He lectured, only to get happy cooing in response as the kid eagerly looked at him. He sighed, waiting till they had cleared the planet’s atmosphere before making the jump to hyperspace. The trip was uneventful, dropping out of hyperspace a couple parsecs away from the last location to avoid the New Republic ship there looking for the woman as well. Seeing the planet and a lack of debris in orbit to indicate a dog fight meant the ship was down on the planet. He let the Razor Crest drop into the new planet’s atmosphere before flying under the Republic ship above. It took him awhile to find the crash site, seeing the shredded ship made him think he would be digging up remains along with the artifact. He had to maneuver carefully to land the ship between trees a couple yards away, the kid following in his pram while the ship was locked. The crash was a few days old by now, the power to the ship not working, so he had to use his scanner to help see inside. 

Finding the stabbed droid gave him a small smirk of satisfaction. But that ended when he saw the blood. The woman must have stabbed the droid without any protection, the jagged metal tearing through the flesh. Her blood trail was the only remaining information in the ship, so he began pursuit of her. He kept his hand on his blaster as he followed after the injured woman. He was taking hours to follow after her. Every so often finding glittering threads on plants, giving him a confirmation of her travel. How could she have gotten this far? That crash was a nasty affair. Finally his trail ended, peering past the shrubs at the base of the tree he found himself looking at a sleeping woman. She looked uninjured, but there was dried blood on her hands, on her face, and along the left leg of her skin tight blue clothing under the glistening sheer dress. The fabric was torn in many places from both the crash and snagging. Her dark purple hair was in thick long braids, the hair disheveled and debris in it. Her skin was pale in color. Clutched within her blood coated hands was a large brown shoulder bag, and he was betting that was the missing relic. 

Standing to his full height he considered his options. She was sleeping peacefully, so he could wait till she woke up, or, if she had a head injury she might not wake up without medical care. He reached forward, shaking her gently to see if she could wake. 

He was not expecting the woman to pounce on him, a wild war shriek filling his ears and the sudden movement pushing him back. She landed on his body, quickly grabbing a stick and aiming it down in a strike at his heart. On reflex he spun them to slow her momentum and disorient his prey. The stick broke against his beskar chest plate, dropping her broken weapon as she looked up, her eyes losing the haze of sleep and she finally processed who was pinning her. The tension in her body he felt increased as she stared into his visor. 

“Burc'ya ra aru'e?” (Friend or enemy) Her voice was dry from disuse and the strain of the scream.

“Gar rejorhaa'ir ni, Ni narir va sihada sol'yc.” (You tell me, I didn't stab first.) He responded calmly, slowly easing himself into a more seated position and to keep an eye on her hands. 

“Narir Goz Kahl ta'na gar?” (Did Goz Kahl send you?) She spoke it neutrally, trying to read his reaction to inform her next to his intention. 

“Draar susulur gai. Olaror asas burc'ya ra aru'ela?” (Never heard the name, Coming as friend or enemy?) He stood up. Looking down at her with a relaxed posture. She stared at his offered hand, reaching up for his assistance as he eased her to her feet. He was a head taller than her, his shoulders wide and she finally looked at him in full. 

“Manna.” Both of them turned, the kid staring at Din, big eyes looking over his father figure for injuries. Andora couldn't control the relieved giggles as she looked at the kid. 

“Your backup?” She walked to the kid, kneeling down to be level with him, about to reach out and hold the little guy when she finally saw the blood on her hands. She put them back in her lap, looking around as she processes that she was safe. “Did you pull me from the ship?”

“No, tracked you down from the blood you left at the crash site a couple clicks away.” She nodded at his words, trying to remember what had happened. “You stabbed the droid. From the looks of the crash site I expected to be picking up a body.” 

“It was trying to turn me in. It wouldn’t listen that I needed to keep going. It shut down the life support systems.” Standing up she looked around, trying to find the bag she had, Din holding it up from where she had left it in her desperate attack. She rushed to it, opening the bag and he saw the helm. She wanted to examine it for damage but her hands were too dirty. Seeing her distress he knelled next to her and eased the helmet out, both carefully inspecting it. “Thank you. It looks like it was untouched by the crash.” He placed it back inside, letting her sling the bag over her shoulder once more. “Are we taking your ship then?” He was glad she was going to make this easy on him, giving a quick nod. Without words he started marching off towards the ship again, the pram and her following wordlessly behind him. 

They passed by a stream and she put her hands in to quickly wash away the muck from her hands, giving her face a quick wash but the water not slow enough for a reflection. As the fabric of her gown kept snagging she huffed in annoyance, and he turned to help only to see her take the sheer gossamer dress off and ball it up, using it to create more cushion for the helm in her bag. Somehow she looked far more indecent in just the skin tight under clothes even though nothing more was showing. She grabbed her braids, twisting them up into a makeshift bun, tying them up to keep them out of her way. Without much fuss she started walking again, and he had not expected the woman to be so practical. The baby started fussing, bored of being in the pram, Din ready to close the lid to keep the kid from walking off.

“Kapr Ni taylir gar garkiryu?” (May I hold your foundling?) He was not used to hearing Mando’a spoken without the distortion of a modulator nor having it spoken so casually. It was typically reserved for important discussions that should not be overheard. He simply looked back at her and the kid, nodding as he slowed his pace to be in step with her, keeping his eyes on her as she happily picked up the kid, speaking to the kid in Mando’a as well, mostly just praises of his cuteness. Din allowed himself an eye roll under the helm, all the women got like this over the kid. Maybe it was actually a defensive mechanism though...since the kid was 50 and still helpless, being so cute that females of other species got all soft and excited to take care of him was proving advantageous to the kids' survival. “Has he been named yet?” She asked curiously, the kid all too excited for new faces and the bouncing game she was playing with him. 

“No.” 

“Nothing has come to you?” She guessed about him, wiggling her finger and poking the child’s tummy lightly, gurgling giggles escaping. “No worries little guy, He’ll figure something out for you eventually.” The kid was reaching towards the ground, and she helped, checking the ground before setting him down, taking some of the fabric from her dress, shredding it into a strip and gently tying it to the child’s waist before letting the child walk. She offered Din the end of the leash, but he allowed her to hold it. “How come you aren’t asking me questions?”

“How come you aren’t asking me more about where I am taking you?” He watched the kid pick up a bug, the little guy looking up into his helmet, slowly bringing it to his mouth, waiting for a reaction. He reached down and quickly freed the bug from the three stubby claws. 

“You brought your son.” She answered easily. “You did not kill me despite having grounds to, and you have not taken the relic from me.” She looked into his visor and smiled warmly. “For these reasons I wish to count you as my ally, and trust that you Mando will show mercy on a poor dar’manda.” Her calling herself that made him feel funny in his chest. For her to call herself doomed as soulless did not sit well with him. 

“And if we don’t help you?” He asked, but even as he spoke he handed her a canteen of water. She dripped it into her own mouth before stopping to let the kid drink too. 

“Then hopefully you would at least give me a ride to my destination.” The trio walked on in silence, a thankfully peaceful travel. As they approached the ship she saw the debris of her own landing, seeing it finally. “Oh wow...thankfully my credits and data pad are still in my bag, if they had gotten lost in this we’d never recover it all.” He opened the walkway for his ship and let her and the kid go first. He gently put a hand on her arm to let the kid waddle in ahead of them. 

“The kid seems to like you...so...carbonite or handcuffs?” He removed the bag from her shoulders, holding it carefully. 

“Is this because of the stabbing? It wasn’t personal.” She didn’t seem scared of him, smiling up at him as she put her hands behind her back for him to put the cuffs on. 

“In front, I want to see what you are doing.” She obediently turned to face him, her wrists still out for him. He put the cuffs on. He let her continue on, closing the landing pad as he returned the kid to the pram. “Up the ladder.” He was glad she wasn’t putting up a fuss, no protesting, no whining, just a smile and acceptance. She moved to the ladder, struggling to climb up with the cuffs on, her shoes slippery from the mud outside. He saw the issue before it happened, his hands reaching up to steady her so she didn’t slip further. He was glad for the helmet, it keeps anyone from seeing his discomfort as his hands pushed on her rump to keep her in place. 

“Maybe handcuffs after the ladder next time?” She said nervously, her cheeks bright pink as she struggled to right herself and enter the cockpit. Quickly she sat down, eyes looking down since she did not have the benefit of a helmet to hide behind. He let the event drop, knowing it had been uncomfortable for both of them. The kid crawled up into the padded seat on the other side behind Din. He took off, staying low to the forest tree line till they reached the other side of the planet before they exited the atmosphere. He looked at his bounty pucks, seeing which one was on his way. One was a simple bail jumper, and he input those coordinates. 

“We are going to make a stop. Don’t try anything.” She gave him a small nod, showing she understood as her eyes were staring off at the stars. 

“Don’t worry...I don’t know how to fly.” He turned to look at her, his head tilted and she blushed again. “I’m the reason the ship crashed...” She was looking upwards still, and he didn’t hear anything false in her tone. 

* * *

“Commander Kahl, the ship’s wreckage was found...no traces of her, or the relic. But we took the droid’s recording of her on the ship.” The voice was distorted by the modulator. 

“Anything usable?” A voice answered from the other side of the com-link. 

“Yes sir, with a little bit of editing we can get just what we need.” The data was already being spliced by the others on the ship.

“Good. I want to see it before we broadcast it. We need it to be just right. We need the people on our side. Par Manda'yaim." (For Mandalore) 

"Par Manda'yaim." 

* * *

When they had landed on the planet Andora had elected to stay inside as soon as she saw the sand, occupying herself with reading from her data pad. Din cuffed her ankle to a part of the bench as a precaution, her hands still cuffed as well. She did not respond more than asking for some water to be close at hand, him leaving a canteen and some ration bars within easy reach for her. She reached out with her cuffed hands, putting it on his gloved one, closing her eyes as she did. Din did not pull away out of curiosity, her hands on both sides of his. A few moments later she opened her eyes, the green flecked with blue staring not at him but past him. 

“Don’t follow him inside, his friends will ambush you.” Her voice was strangely vacant before she blinked a few times, slowly pulling her hands away. “The kid and I will be fine as long as we are locked inside the ship.” 

“I know.” He said dismissively, standing once more and opening his weapons locker to take what he would need. Her warning was in his head, and he grabbed a flash grenade as a precaution. He left without much more than patting the kid on the head before walking out into the desert sun. Once she heard the firm lock of the ship door she reached down and uncuffed herself from the bench, it taking longer to remove the cuffs on her wrists. She stood up and rubbed the skin to ease the discomfort, stretching as she finally had some time away from his intense aura. The baby was looking up at her, and she felt it probe at her with its own wild force energy. She let her energy drop and be open to the baby, letting him feel she meant him and his father figure no harm. The baby was soon satisfied with what he was looking for, returning to rolling the small metal ball across the floor as Andora helped herself to the restroom. No way had she been willing to ask while he was here. Her bodily needs eased she washed up and moved to the ration bars, opening one and taking a tentative bite, shrugging at the bland taste. It definitely could use some spices. She picked up the toddler, offering him some of her bar, but he shook his head, obviously not excited by the object. 

Laying out on the bench she looked through her data pad, pulling up the information her colleagues at the museum had been collecting about historical battles, hoping to read it now since she had time. Looking to the little green foundling she smiled and decided to pick a battle that was so old that it wasn’t completely clear if it was a story or fact. She started to read it out loud like a mother would read a story book, the little metal ball still rolling around but his ears twitching as he passively absorbs the words. 

It had been around five hours, and she had put the child down for a nap after he became drowsy from playing and listening to her read. Andora hoped the Mando was okay, she would not want this child to be without a parent. A tingle went down her spine and she rushed back to her spot, re-locking her ankle before putting herself back in the cuffs, trying to calm her features so he would not know her disobedience. The door opened and a wave of sand came flurrying inside the ship, causing her to close her eyes and turn away. Thankful she had closed the pram so the child was safe from the stinging bite of the wind-born stones. The door went up just as quickly, the Mando and the prey both dusted in the sand. They still were struggling, but not for long as the Mando punched the bounty in the face, sending the stunned alien into place. It was really impressive how quickly the freezing happened. She watched in interest as he lifted it up and slid it into place in the holding rack. 

He turned to look at her, then at the pram, and she realized her error. The pram was too far away for her to reach it cuffed, and he had left it open. He rushed to her, blade to her throat as he checked the cuffs. She could feel his eyes under the visor scanning her body, blushing a little because the body hugging outfit was making it easy for him to see that she had no weapons. She was calm and did not move or resist when he pressed it to her neck. Slowly he pulled back from her, checking on the kid, who was peacefully asleep. He seemed to be thinking over what to do with her. He put the vibroblade back, satisfied with the kid’s safety. He marched over, unlocking her ankle and hoisting her up. She didn’t struggle as he pushed her towards the carbonite, closing her eyes so they wouldn’t get damaged. 

“Why did you get back in the cuffs?” 

“I had to go. There’s no door so I had to wait till you left. Then he and I played for a little bit before he fell asleep.” He let go of her cuffs, her standing there waiting for him to freeze her. There were silent moments before she heard a resigned huff, he dragged her forward out of the freezing area. 

“That wasn’t the answer.” 

“Oh...I want to keep you as my ally, I figured if you saw me still in them it would help.” 

“So lie to me to get me to trust you?”

“You are right, when you say it like that, it would have been better just to tell you I would get out of the cuffs.” The ship was tense between them, and she was worried he was about to freeze her but instead he removed her cuffs. 

“Your compliance is part of your strategy or your nature?” He accused her, and she didn’t deny his accusation. 

“Strategy...to survive in the Imperial re-education camps. If you wanted food, you obey. If you wanted them to stop hitting you, just be quiet and they leave sooner. The more obedient you are the more they think they have you.” There was no shame in her voice, no sadness, just fact.

“You were in a re-education camp?” It did not sit well with him that she had been through imperial control. He had heard what happened to people sent to those places. The prisoners there would be broken down, their culture and minds striped and filled with Imperial approved thoughts. 

“At 16...I was only there a few months.” She answered him. “My father bribed the officer for my freedom.” She sat down again, looking at her hands to avoid letting him see her face. 

“That must have cost a fortune.” He said, and she figured he didn’t believe her. He was standing across from her, hand on his blaster. 

“He paid them in beskar. Said he didn’t want to lose another child.” She sounded bitter to his ears, and he watched her fingers move against each other as she walked down the paths these thoughts were on. 

“Where did he get it?” 

“When I found out...I wish father had just let them keep me.” There was sadness in her voice, and he believed her. “He traded the family armor.”

“I thought armor is banned?”

“It is...my brother went off world, promised when I was older he would come take me with him. Instead, Ner vod taabir chaaj'yc be'chaaj.” (My brother marched far away.) She wiped away the small tear before it grew, and he understood, her brother was gone and her father had bought her freedom with his armor. 

“Ni cuyir mando, cuyir ori'haat meh gar vercopa at cuyir ner tomad.” (I am mandalorian, be honest if you wish to be my ally.) Din spoke to her, putting the cuffs back in his gear. 

“I learned how to get in and out of cuffs at the camp. But I have no desire to escape you. You might be the only ones that can help me. If not in my mission, in at least getting me where I need to go. And yes, being compliant is a strategy to survive, both friend and enemy alike. I have been doing it since I was 16...Half my life now.” Andora looked up, hoping that he could understand. She was not trying to deceive him, she just...it was how she lived.

“What else do I need to know?” He felt his stomach rumble, taking a ration bar for himself and planning to eat after he settled this. 

“It all sounds bad out of context.” He rolled his fingers, telling her to continue and Andora was not surprised he didn’t care about the context. “I killed before...and...well like I said, it sounds bad out of context but...I wore armor made from human bones. I was sent to the re-education camps because the imperials called me a savage.” 

“Who did you kill?”

“Imperials.”

“Why?” 

“They killed my friends.” They were silent as he mulled over her words. “Should I get in the freezer?” She wasn’t going to resist, and her compliance now made him uneasy. But if he froze her to make himself feel better...then he was harming a woman asking to be his ally because he was scared. 

“No.” He turned to go up the ladder, the pram floating up after him. “Stay down here.” He then locked the hatch leaving her there unbound, with only the frozen bounty as company. Andora felt the ship lift off after a while, figured he had used that time to eat and drink. Laying back down she stared at the ceiling, humming to herself before drifting off to sleep. 

* * *

“Senator Buma Ordot. We have the message that was sent to trigger the evacuation at the museum. It seems it was sent from Vizsla’s data pad. There are some more files attached, marked for you.” The data specialist was standing at the Senators desk, waiting on the man’s direction. 

“Pull them up.” The senator said calmly, watching on the holoscreen as the documents were opened. The letter was a proposed plan for the reunification of the mandalorian tribes. The second was a very large plan for the rehabilitation of the planet surface, with references to the technology that was being used on other planets and how those systems could be adapted. The last document was a hastily recorded video message. 

“Senator Ordot. The Death Watch is still active, they are plotting to unite the warriors under a Mand’alor and enslave any who oppose them on the planet. They want to use Vizsla’s relic to prove their right of succession. I can’t let that happen. I don’t care what happens to me, you have to investigate Goz Kahl. Once Death Watch loses its leader I will surrender myself to make amends.” The video ended, the senator taking a deep breath. 

“What do we do sir?” Senator Ordot’s aides were all unsettled by the idea of the Death Watch being on the rise again. The terrorists had been an ongoing problem, kept silent from the public after the re-establishment of the pacifists. 

“Keep her message quiet. We don’t want a full on revolt or panic. We can’t take her word on any of this. Send someone to investigate Goz Kahl, but be discreet about it.” 

“What about the other documents?” One of the aides said. 

“She’s a historian, not a politician. It’s a lovely sentiment to try and bridge the gap between the two sects of of our culture. But it won’t work. We had to banish warriors because they would never live in peace with us.” 

“But...what about the rehabilitation? There may be parts of it we could use.” The aide was highlighting the artificial atmosphere plan. 

“It’s too expensive. We don’t have the funds for it, not without getting help from the New Republic. We can hardly afford our current state, but to get that kind of help would cost us dearly.” The senator spoke firmly, the aide closing the holoscreen. “Now, please get a press conference ready. I need to put the public at ease, the terrorists will likely take credit for the museum.” The aides left, after the door closed the senator sat down, opening his private chat channel, the image of a helmeted soldier on screen. “She gave Goz Kahl’s name. I sent someone to investigate. Make sure they find an answer.” 

“Yes Mand’alor.” The soldier responded, saluting before the communication was cut off. 

* * *

Din hadn’t slept in a few cycles, parking the ship on a rocky moon and finally coming down to the main cargo hold. She was asleep, or looked like it. He watched her breathing, it steady and even, her eyes moving under her eyelids. Satisfied the woman was actually asleep he walked to the cabin, putting the kid in first before locking himself inside. The cabin locked from his side and the pram closed he removed the helmet, brushing his hair, cleaned his teeth and washed his face. Laying his head down, he fell into a dreamless sleep. 

He was unsure how long he had slept but when he woke it was to the sound of a crying child in the dark space. He put his helmet on and turned on the light, opening the carrier and seeing the child was very upset. He opened the cabin door, and he saw that Andora was purposely not looking in his direction. He stood up, taking the child out of the Pram and trying to assess what was bothering the child. The child’s eyes were large watery, and looking up at him for help. 

“He probably needs to eat...it’s been 12 standard hours.” Andora spoke up softly, Din surprised he had needed to sleep so much. She opened up a ration bar and held it out for Din to feed to the kid, the kid taking the pieces of it, not happy about the taste but desperate for sustenance. The crying stopped when the ration bar was finished, the child eager to be set down to stretch his little limbs. “Are you okay Mando?” Her voice was still soft, like she was worried about being overheard. “You were having a fitful sleep.” She continued when he offered no response. 

“Don’t remember anything of it.” He answered back honestly, wanting to stretch out himself and bath, but he couldn’t while she was here. He looked over the ship, seeing she hadn’t touched more than another ration bar for herself and the water. The ship was a bit colder since the engine was off, and he saw her curled up to keep warm. She wasn’t saying anything so he let it be. “Might have been the kid whining.” 

“I won’t hurt him...you can leave him out here while you take care of what you need.” She still was not looking at him, and he realized she didn’t know if he was wearing it or not.

“I’m wearing my helmet, you can look.” He said, pulling his gloves and boots back on, donning his armor.

“Just being sure. I know the rules about faces are different for foundlings.” He stopped strapping his chest plate to look at her, glaring at her through his visor. 

“How did you know?” He didn’t like that she was guessing so much about him.

“Because even in Death Watch they take their helmets off outside the battlefield. They were born Mandalorian and so the helmet does not make them. For foundlings though...the old life can’t show anymore.” She said it like it was obvious, but not something she agreed with.

“Were you part of Death Watch?”

“No, but members of my house created and led them, filled their ranks. It’s a shame too. If they would just...just approach it differently...than the pacifists wouldn’t be so scared. Me and my brother would have worn armor with pride instead of secrecy. They harm their own cause by making warriors and brutes synonyms.” The kid was looking for his favorite orb, little feet padding softly on the ship. Andora stood up slowly and walked over to help extract it from the netting it had rolled into. 

“You wore your enemies bones as armor.” Din pointed out, not sure how she thought she wasn’t a savage.

“There was no beskar on the planet, and no armorers to forge anything for me. I did what I could with plaster and bones.” She sounded embarrassed by the event, not ashamed, just embarrassed.

“You could have taken their plate armor.” He pointed out, his armor fully donned again. 

“If I beat them with sticks and stones, their armor wasn’t that effective. I had to put something stronger on top.” She pointed out. “Besides, I was 16, we all make really stupid choices at that age.” She was smiling a little, thinking back on something. “I ran away from home to go play soldier on a planet and my friend Kejena shaved her hair and tattooed a face on her skull. Bad choices all around.” 

“Why was it a bad choice for her? She didn’t get arrested for it.” Andora rolled her eyes, giving him a look that said that barb hadn’t been effective. 

“She did it herself with a mirror, the whole thing was crooked and uneven. She had to wear a wig for months. I got to go have an adventure.” She was sitting up a bit more, but still trying to hide her shivering.

“Playing at being a soldier.” Din said as he easily lifted himself into the cockpit, restarting the ship so they could finish their trip. She glared at his back. That had been effective, and so she let him have the victory instead of chasing a fight that only ended in her being hurt more. The little one walked to her and put the ball in her hand and she smiled, not bothered by the slobber on it. He crawled up on the bench next to her, and she began rolling the ball back into his hands. He squeaked in delight, trying to copy the motion, it was hard with his three fingered hands but she was patient and helped him. Like all toddlers, she never knew if they would grow bored with something quickly or become obsessed with it, needing to do it over and over. It seemed rolling the ball was an obsessive behavior for him. His face in stern concentration as he seemed to be trying to do something more than roll it. She started talking to the child in Mando’a, encouraging him in whatever task he had assigned himself. She felt his energy building, and realized that his force sensitivity was far larger than she had believed at first. 

Finally the ball was no longer rolling on her hands, but levitating between them. The baby is focusing on the ball, spinning it now without any contact with their hands. She was amazed. Levitation. This child was gifted. She had visions and foresight, but tasks like this were at the edge of her power. For such a tiny being to do it before mastering basic speech, he was special. She kept encouraging him, telling her she was proud of him. All the praise finally drew her escort back, him seeing the kid levitating the ball. The baby turned to look at Din, the ball dropping once more into Andora’s hands. He quickly moved to scoop the kid up, checking him over, the kid just giggling excitedly and making the Manna sound again. 

“Don’t worry, gar ad'ika was careful.” (your son) She was smiling excitedly, wiping her hands on her body suit as she stood up to remove the dried spittal. “It would take much more to exhaust him. He is eager to practice with his powers.” 

“Do you know what it is?” Din felt little fingers gripping his plates of armor, the kid trying to crawl up him like a playground. 

“Yes.” She reached into her bag, pulling out the helmet. “He is like Tarre...he has the force. He’s much stronger than I can ever be, but he has no real use of it yet. It is mostly emotional and instinctive.” The kid reached out for the helmet, excited by the new object she was offering to him. Setting the kid down while she held it for him to touch, Din watched cautiously. The kid tried to put the helmet on, it was taller than him, and his ears were sticking out through the open face. Andora giggled at the image, wishing she had a way to capture it. “Not yet little one. You haven’t even learned to talk. But for a sweetie like you, I would gladly sponsor your beskar. You’ll need more for those ears of yours.” She pulled the helm back, re-wrapping it in the bag for safe keeping. 

“His sponsorship is my responsibility.” Din said firmly, not liking that this woman would even offer that to the kid. He was the kid’s father now, he provided for him. She blinked up in surprise at his hostility. 

“I didn't mean to over step. Of course, gar ad’ika, gar buirkan.” (your son, your responsibility) Putting her hands up in a manner to show she meant no offense. “ I just...I haven’t met any others with the gift since my brother marched. To have another Mandalorian with the force...I feel the need to offer what I can. There are no Jedi around to teach him the control he will need, and even then, they would not raise him as a Mandalorian.” 

“We’ll be landing soon.” Din was not happy with her forwardness, taking the kid back up with him and leaving her down here once more. She turned to the still frozen bounty. “Once I get this bounty off, we have to talk.”

“He’s as pleasant as a new barabel mother.” Andora huffed, waiting for him to lock himself away before allowing herself to walk around and stretch. 

* * *

When they landed on the planet it was nightfall, but the distant glow of volcanic activity and the bright moon above gave the world a nice glow. He had taken possession of the bag, marching off into the night with the kid in his pram, the ship parked in the shipyard. She followed him out, wishing she had a coat or something at this point but she wouldn't let him know she was uncomfortable. 

“If I blindfold you will you still be able to navigate from the ship to enclave?” Din asked before taking her into the walls of the city. 

“It will make it slower for me, but eventually yes. I would.” She wouldn’t lie to him, he already didn’t trust her. 

“Skill, or the gift you have?” He was walking a different path from the one he had been shown. Trying to disorientate her as much as he could. 

“Both, it’s hard to tell the two apart.” She was looking around the city, seeing many life forms she hadn’t encountered while on Mandalore, and she was kind of wanting to wander off and explore. The architecture was different from what she was used to, and he walked off ahead of her, trying to see if he could lose her. She looked around when he vanished from her line of sight. He was testing her, and she knew she should go follow him but...the temptation to go and look at all the new stuff was really difficult to pull away from. The same calling to go off from her youth. With a heavy sigh, she forced herself to turn around and go after him, biting her lip as she looked back at the bright lights of the main town center to go after his footprints in the soil. She eventually followed them to a small doorway that was covered by a cloth, it looked dark and was set deep into the ground. Looking around she didn’t see a posted guard, but she also was not dumb enough to walk into a base full of trained warriors. Not knowing what to do now that he was not here to give her the proper escort into the base she looked for a place she could wait that would not draw attention. A hand reached out from behind the cloth and dragged her into the doorway. She didn’t scream, just looking up at his familiar helmet. “Nice to see you Mando.” Din just turned and walked down the stairs with her behind him. Andora did not follow him immediately, the first bit of resistance she had shown. Her face looked pale, and she was trembling, but it didn’t seem to be cold. 

“Mando...Why are we here?” Her heart was breaking. She could feel the recent deaths, the valor of warriors as children were rushed off to safety, Their battle song one of great loss, and she tripped as Din tugged her down the stairs. She could hear the blasters firing, the sound of armor clashing as they made an attempt to protect their home. “Tion'solet taabir be'chaaj olar?” (How many marched away here?) Din did not answer her, instead leading her further into the base, a stack of broken armor knee high there in the center, the warrior within them gone. Instead of waiting to let her recover Din approached the Armorer who sat silently in front of the forge, waiting on the beskar to be melted into a form that would be easier to transport to a new home. Din pulled Andora to her knees, both kneeling before the forge as they waited for the Armorer to acknowledge them.

“Have you found the child’s family?” She did not turn to look at them. 

“I believe this woman may have a clue, but I do not trust her, I have come to see if you can provide clarity to her words.” Slowly the golden helmeted woman came to sit in front of them. Din opened the back and pulled out the ancient helmet. 

“So you are a thief then.” The Armorer stated to start as she looked over the helm.

“As the head of the armor and weapons department, it is my job to protect the artifacts. I took it to fulfill my duty to protect it. Death Watch is growing in numbers, they have a leader once more wishing to calling himself Mand’alor. I won’t allow them to use a Vizsla relic ever again.” 

“What proof do you have?” The golden helm turned to the side as she examined the woman before her.

“None I can show you.” Andora sighed, visions were not transferable.

“So nothing.” The Armorer stated firmly. “Do you know the Resol’nare?”

“Ba'jur bal beskar'gam, Ara'nov, aliit, Mando'a bal Mand'alor—An vencuyan mhi.” Andora spoke almost lyrically, a well rehearsed rhyme.

“If he is calling himself, Mand’alor, why refuse?” 

“Because a Mand’alor should be our leader, not just for warriors, but for all Mandalorians. Kahl doesn’t want to lead all of us. He will take his warriors and turn them on the peaceful Mandalorians.” Her hands were clenched in her lap as she sat. “Goz Kahl wishes to declare another civil war. The civilians won’t last a chance. It’ll be a slaughter. And all we will gain for it is fewer and fewer Mandalorians. That goes against the Resol’nare. A Mand’alor should keep us alive, all of us.” Andora spoke with deep sadness, the weight of the deaths here oppressively pressing on her mind. “There maybe a short excess of food and money for the survivors, but a leader that does not know how to rebuild after the war will only leave the planet worse off. It’s the same over and over again.” 

“What do you mean again?” The Armorer asked, her voice giving away nothing of how she felt about the woman’s words. 

“Ever since the Mandalorian and Jedi wars, our homeworld has suffered, and our numbers diminish. The war was the end of our expansion. After that, we joined with the Sith empire...and our reward for it? Mandalorian territories lost, and our homeworld of Mandalore began turning to a wasteland. The domed cities built. Once the Old Republic rose, our warriors were the face of assassins and enemy to the Jedi again. The dishonor that came with it, and the loss of livable land...begot the banishment of the Warrior clans. Our reward for that? Occupation by the Republic after another Sith used Death Watch. We can’t leave the domes without life support systems, and the cracking of Condorn Dawn and then the Purge by the Empire. When the Jedi were wiped out, the Empire turned their attention to us, banning our heritage, stealing our armors, some heirlooms passed down for hundreds of years, and melted for their own use. Every one of these events...a selfish Mand’alor sold their people for their own greed. For only one way of life.”

“The Warriors way of life.” Andora nodded to the Armorer’s statement, wishing she was in a less oppressive place. Fighting tears at the amount of loss she could feel. 

“Mandalore used to have fields, farmlands, forests, we use to have warriors and the home front. Somehow everyone forgot the two pieces fit together. Self defense, that’s part of our ways. We had to have something worth protecting.” 

“And you and the peaceful Mandalorians are the home front? You wish for warriors to return and protect it?” 

“No, You and yours are free to do as you wish. I am protecting the home front by stalling the warlord Kahl. I am not asking for help beyond reaching a place I can leave the relic to be guarded.” 

“You call yourself a warrior?” There was amusement in the Armorer’s voice. 

“Ni narir va ne'waadas at juha nii mayen. Ni cuyir Mando.” (I don't need to call myself anything. I am Mandalorian.) Andora spoke firmly, shoulders squared, her head held high. 

“What clue did she offer that you doubt?” The Armorer spoke while turning to Din. 

* * *

Chapter end.


	2. Milestones

The Armorer had told Din to return in a few hours, leaving the two women alone. Andora sat there on her knees, not complaining as she gazed around curiously at the forge. The models in the museum were fairly close, but rang hollow compared to the actual presence here. 

“Are there truly no forges left on Mandalore?” It was the first hint of emotion from the other woman.

“No...the Empire smashed them all. The ones left on Concordia too.” Andora looked at the Helms that were lined on the walls, the armor that had accompanied them being smelted. 

“Do you know how to forge?” Her gloved hand gestured to the equipment before she rose, the crucible’s work done.

“In theory. I study armors, from all time periods, from different classes and clans, and even from the progenitors. Weapons too, but due to the ban none of it can be put to use beyond restoration and categorization.” Andora watched as the metal was poured. Smooth bars of clean beskar were collected from the mold, stamped with the three claw marks of the clan they came from. 

“Is that why you flinch when you witness me reclaiming the beskar.” There were stacks upon stacks of beskar at the side of the forge.

“Once they go in...I can’t hear their songs anymore. It’s like a second death.” 

“Va Kyr’am, a cin vhetin.” (Not death, a fresh start.) The Armor set aside a few blocks, the rest joining the reserves. “They are freed from their armor to go to Manda. A new warriors song to be made from what they leave behind.”

“Can you hear the songs too?” Andora looked up to read the other woman’s body language. 

“No, but I know of what you speak. It is part of the magic that the child has. And that you share. I suppose you cherish the songs more because you have no armor to sing your own.” The black visor was staring at her, and while Andora could not feel the use of the force, she did not doubt this woman could read her soul. “What weapons have you used?” 

“Spears, bows and arrows, crude knives. I learned my hunting from a tribe without metallurgy.” Hopefully that tribe would be able to help her. If the Mando would at least take her half way, she could figure out the rest. 

“Gar nalku'na ures suvarir. Meg cayatitr ganar gar iviye?” (You answer without understanding. What weapon have you used?) There was a bit of frustration at the woman’s voice. “You live a half life, and so speak in half truths. It is why he doesn't trust you, and why I must repeat myself.”

“Sarnu'a ni, gar cuyir staabi. Ni ganar iviye bes'bev asas pirusti.” (Forgive me, you are right. I have used the flute as well.) Andora had not said sorry in a very long time, but this was warranted. 

“A fitting choice, it looks harmless to the untrained eye.” Like how Andora did not look Mandalorian.

“Instruments were the only things exempt from the ban. My brother played the masmer. It was a small act of rebellion. If you wanted a weapon, you played music.” (drum) 

“You will help him with the child. And in return I will make you whole.” There was no question of if in the Armorer’s voice. 

“How? He has not explained what he wants from me.” Andora said in confusion. Even while she had been told to explain about Tarre Vizsla and the force and his Jedi and Mandalorian legacy no actual discussion of why this Mando needed the information had happened. 

“The child is a foundling, and is under his care. He is charged with returning the child to its people or to care for it until it comes of age. You know of the Jedi, and so will help him restore the child to its kind.” 

“But...I have to get the Helm away from Death Watch. I have a whole planet of people I am trying to help. And besides, if it is a foundling, then we are it’s people now.” 

“It won’t survive the training.” The Armorer grabbed a bar of beskar, selecting a mold for it. 

“Yes he could. When he’s older. The child is strong in the force, maybe stronger than Vizsla was.” The room was much hotter now as the forge began its work.

“He is the child’s father, and he has his goal to safely take the child to its own kind. Two birds with one stone, he will help you keep this relic away from your foes, by you helping him find where this child’s home is.” Conversation was halted as the Armorer began work on something that had just been molded, pieces being attached with a soldering tool, working effectively and with practiced ease. Without the protective glass of a helmet or even safety goggles Andora had to look away. “When he comes back I will restock his weapons, and inform him of your agreement.” 

“What did you mean by making me whole?” 

“At ani a mando, gar linibar a buy'ce bal a cayatitr.” (To complete a mandalorian, you need a helmet and a weapon.) Andora felt her heart skip a beat, not letting herself hope. “A weapon now, a helmet should you help him find the child’s people.” The beskar shone in ways the simple plated silver of her childhood instrument had not. Taking it in hand the weight was comforting. She looked at the bladed edge, the point shimmering tantalizingly. Her hands gently pressed into position, wanting to test it’s sound. When the Armorer stood there waiting Andora brought it to her lips, closing her eyes as she recalled her scales. It sounded much lower in tone to what she used before, but the quality of it made it richer in sound, the notes played well. Satisfied with her work the Armorer returned to her seat. “I trust you know fight of the mythosaur?” 

“I haven’t played it for a while.” She took a few notes to practice her breathing before starting the song. The flute echoed in the domed space, filling the space where other musicians would have joined her. The song drifted in the space, the song stilted but serviceable. Instead of stopping she played through and just allowed the song to start over, working it till she felt better with the timing. Footsteps were heard once more, the music stopping as both women turned to await the Mando. Din walked in, the child asleep as it floated behind him. 

“She will help you search and you will act as an escort for her. I will stock your weapons, and give you coordinates to where you may find me for repairs.” If Din did not agree he kept quiet about it. He kneeled beside Andora as he was gifted with more weapons, his body firmly between her and the kid. After he was handed a small disk the Armorer turned her back to them. “The galaxy is large, and my forge holds no more answers for you.” Making it clear she was not going to interact with the pair further, Din stood to leave, Andora wishing she had stretched a while ago as she stood, blood rushing to her feet, the pins and needles she had ignored demanding attention now. Taking deep breaths and clutching her new gift to her chest Andora forced her feet to move steadily up the stairs. Eventually the discomfort passed, her steps more natural and less deliberate, following him at a pace behind. He finally gave her back her bag, and she felt the lack of the helm in her bag. 

“It’s on the ship.” He spoke as he turned towards the main city center, the shops all getting ready to open for the day. “You need better clothes. What you are wearing isn’t going to work.” She did not need more prompting than that. She had spent her night down in the enclave while he had handled his business, and the city was just getting ready after having been open late in the night. She bought a couple pairs of pants, tops, and undergarments. He did not care to watch her shopping, his eyes instead watching around him. He could hear her haggling poorly, but it seemed that most vendors agreed easily to her deals. When she met up with him at the edge of the city center, he looked at her, seeing her carrying a camping cot and sleeping gear along with the clothes in bags. It looked like at heavy load but she just smiled and marched alongside him back to the ship. “Isn’t it heavy for you?”

“Your armor weighs 40 standard kilos, this is barely 14 kilos. I will be fine.” He let her be, not stopping as she made a detour to a food vendor, coming back with something in a small storage bin. “Make that 17.” She sounded excited about whatever food she had bought. When they reached the ship she saw the bounty was gone, and she guessed that was what he had done while he left her with the Armorer. He locked the door and put away the restocked weapons, and she noticed a flight pack among his equipment that had been under his cloak. 

“What coordinates are you trying to get to?” He asked, pucks in his pocket. 

“It’s out in U-12. The Albanin sector.” 

“There’s nothing out there, we’d be lucky to not run out of fuel. Only space ports near there are under Hutt control.” His tone made it clear he did not like the idea of going out that way. 

“I know. I have been there before. I have credits, I can pay for some of the fuel cost. Then help earn the rest.” 

“With a flute?” His gaze was on her gift, seeing the bladed edge of it. She put a cork to keep the edge covered. 

“A battle flute, thank you very much.” She was setting down her purchases, organizing and rolling her clothes in tight rolls so they would fit in her bag. And leaving her sleeping cot and bed roll against the wall where they took up less space. “Hutts love entertainment, and if I practice some songs I could get us passage on one of their ships so we could save on fuel costs through their territory.” She left out one outfit, tight grey pants, a purple shirt and blue long turtleneck over top. 

“Is that how you made it out there last time?” 

“Yeah. Singing and music are things they just love because their species is not really able to do it themselves. Plus with your own ship we could just leave if they make it a hassle.” She was a bit uneasy herself about getting back on a hutt ship, last time she had been a kid so they had mostly wanted from her was her music. When they had tried to take her as a slave she had hopped into an escape pod and landed on the planet that was now her destination. 

“We have a couple stops we can make on the way to Hutt Space. They did expand some hyperspace routes out there. Maybe it’s changed.” He secured his jet pack and went up to the cockpit, giving her time to change and him some time away from her eyes, taking the kid with him again. 

“The Empire gave up on the colonies out there. The planets were too hostile and too uninhabitable for humans where we are going.” Well, that certainly made it more appealing of a destination. Din pulled out his pucks, trying to plot the most fuel efficient route to take. “Actually...they might have gotten a spaceport out of it. Never really could travel too far from the dens. Highly doubt we’ll see much traffic there.” He could hear her striping down and helping herself to the wash station. At least she was fast about it instead of wasting water. They were on their way towards his first hunt, an hour into it before she came up the ladder to sit behind him, her hair brushed and she was focusing on taming the mass of purple hair into braids she could keep out of her way. Instead of rambling on she sat there quietly, just watching the star streaks as they traveled. 

“Manna.” The kid was awake now, excited and with practiced ease was gifted his favorite playtoy, the small metal orb from Din's control console. The kid held it up like a prize, turning to their guest and babbling excitedly to her as he presented it like his own hunting trophy. She laughed softly and watched the kid, who seemed to start picking up on social things like talking and waiting for her eyes to be on him. It was all coos, babbles, and half formed sounds. Din couldn’t see it as he focused on piloting but the kid was reaching for him while saying Manna.

“Nayc ad'ika, va ‘Manna’, Buir.” (No little one, not "Manna", father.) The kid looked at her, then back at Din in the chair, reaching out again and trying to repeat the sounds. “Buir.” She coached him softly, the kid not able to get the ‘b’ sound, but the ‘uir’ was simple enough. 

“Don’t...he has to go back to his kind,” 

“Well he has to call you something, you are more to him than simply Mando, and I doubt he’s going to get ver'gebuir.” (Bodyguard). She stopped the encouragement, respecting the boundary but he could feel her simmering desire to subvert him. That put him more at ease. He was used to that feeling. Someone plotting against him was more comfortable than someone that was too compliant. 

“He just says that to get his toy.” Din dismissed, not wanting to fall further into the kids hold. As much as he saw girls and women fawn over the kid, he couldn’t help but get soft over the big brown eyes that looked up at him like he knew everything. 

“No, he says it when he is looking at you. He did it back on Mandallia in the forest when he was checking I didn’t stab you. And he said it while pointing at you just now. He needs practice talking or he’ll miss that milestone.” She let the little guy grab a purple braid, tugging it like he was testing a rope. 

“So you know how to raise kids now?” His hands moved to switches, adjusting calculations based on instinct. 

“No, but my friends all have kids so I babysit a lot. And I run the tours on armor history for our school groups at the museum. Ten years of the same thing and you tend to remember stuff.” She hissed in pain as the kid figured her hair was sturdy enough to climb, her hands quickly moving him to her lap so he would stop climbing and giving him a look that made him hit her with big begging yes. Relenting she let him keep playing with her hair, but stopping climbing attempts. 

“He’s 50.” 

“Standard years sure. But for all we know on his home planet he might be less than a local year. And even then, I am betting no one bothered trying to teach him how to speak during all the time he was a prisoner. He might already be behind his species normal development. The right thing to do is try and make sure he gets some language.” 

“Basic then.” Din relented, feeling the start of the slide into a losing battle.

“No, both. He is your foundling, and for all we know he might come of age before we find any other family. He should know both. Being multilingual in the galaxy is a strength. Forbid you fall in battle, your token and knowing Mando’a might be his only hope of getting protection.” She took the prized ball, warming it with her body heat before the kid demanded it back. 

“What about you?” 

“If you are dead, no way would I last longer.” Andora didn’t even laugh at the statement as a dark joke.

“Don’t flatter.”

“It’s honest. I haven’t been in a real fight in over a decade, all my practice is in survival skills and hunting, not warfare. You...you are battle hardened. I might scurry and avoid the worst of something, but if it’s a problem where you are in danger then I am probably dead.” The kid tugged her hair, and she quickly returned her attention to him, saving Din from having to answer. He allowed her to start teaching the kid simple words, the kid just making gurgles and ahs as responses. Maybe she had a point. The kid was making a bunch of sounds now with a partner, a contrast to the relative silence of the ship. The kid started wandering down the ladder, her moving to follow him. 

“Did you store your flute?” He turned to look at her before she left.

“Yes but-”

“Let him be then.” He turned back and he felt her hesitation as she sat back down. They were quiet for a while, she was feeling more and more uncomfortable. Why did he want to keep her here. His stifling arua was filling the space. She wanted to just go down and spend time with the kid. “I’m not an imperial, and this is not a battle.” Her head snapped up to look at him in confusion. “It’s not natural for you to be so...obedient.” Andora blushed in embarrassment, realizing that he had been testing her. She had wanted to go play more with the kid and instead she had followed an implied order. “There are times where it’s helpful. But you can be...more comfortable, like at the market. It will be a while traveling.” He wasn’t sure if he could trust her to not follow orders given to her by someone else, or if it was just him she deferred to so much. 

“Okay Mando. I’ll try.” She couldn’t promise she would change completely, but he had a point. She should not live her old life anymore. The Armorer was right too, she lived a half life. All the things that spoke to her spirit separated from her by panes of glass and clinical gloves. The education she gave to the children at the museum state approved to help conformity into a peaceful life instead of celebrating the heritage they had. Looking up at the panels covering the city and seeing only the flickering of the city lights reflected back at them during the night cycles. Here, with the Mando and his kid, she could wield a weapon, could see real stars, and not just honor the past but live in the present. She dropped down below, finding the kid and scooping him up to begin talking with the child without any topic in mind, just knowing his developing mind needed to be hearing words. She kept her voice low though, letting their pilot concentrate. 

He couldn’t remember the last time he had been able to fly uninterrupted since taking the kid with him. She kept the kid busy with games, talking, and eventually her flute. The song is slow and melancholy, but the notes simple and soft, like a lullaby. She played through the song a few times, or perhaps it was just repetitive. He hadn’t really listened to music much since he started hunting. It always seemed to dim his perception, he had to focus on his environment so the music was always a background noise he set his scanners to tune out. 

The flute stopped and now he was listening to her humming the same notes, her footsteps seemed to be rocking back and forth. Allowing the sound a bit more attention he could make out soft words, not humming.

“Gutir teh ji'marepu'armr, trattok'or bid katrakine. Emuurir laandur orikih latr, ku'amih o'r karjaosr. Verd'ika b'amr, olaror taabir yaim. Kotep verd b'amr, olaror taabir yaim.” (Leaves from the vine, falling so slow. Like fragile tiny shells, drifting in the foam. Little soldier boy, come marching home. Brave soldier boy, comes marching home.) He was pretty sure she was putting the little guy down for a sleep cycle. The singing stopped and so did her pacing. The kid’s pram closed and he heard her assemble the cot, the rustling of fabric and then silence. They would be out of hyperspace in soon. The sleep cycle he had should last him for a while. The stars started to take form again, no longer the passing streaks of light. He removed his helmet and ran his hands through his hair, letting his skin breathe for awhile. He performed some maintenance of the systems in his helmet, cleaning the interior before it could stink. 

In an orbit around the planet he started to narrow down the possible locations his newest target, a debt skipper, was hiding. A gambler couldn’t live somewhere remote. Their habits would drive them towards gambling places. Pulling up local information he started trying to narrow down where the best gambling was had on the planet. He hadn’t played in a while, but he liked the odds. A race track was the big draw, but his target had no history of race betting. Seemed he liked to bet on fighting matches. Still setting his course for the larger town, he could track down a lead for sure. With a smooth motion he put the helmet back on, securing his identity before calling in for a landing.

The ship touched down in the landing hanger, and he walked past the two sleeping occupants. Rifle, blasters, cuffs, blades, bombs, grappler, flamethrower fuel, and comms link; he was ready to go. Setting the other comms link down on the cot near Andora he disembarked. He paid for the dock fee, locking the ship behind him. This shouldn’t be long. 

Andora groaned as the bright light filled the cargo hold of the ship, looking up to see his shiny (blindingly reflective) armor walking away. Once he relocked the ship, she rolled over to finish getting some sleep. Of course now that she was already half awake she couldn’t exactly drown out the noises from outside. After tossing and turning to squeeze just a few more moments she relented, walking up and turning back on the lights below deck. She didn’t remember turning them off. Standing from her cot she shivered, in just undergarments and socks. Redressing herself she checked on the kid, seeing the little guy still sleeping. 

She drank some water and was deciding she should start keeping her end of the deal, using her data pad to search for lifeforms that match the kids physical traits. So far it was pointing her towards more amphibious species. Looking over at the kid she thought about the other option. Maybe she would have more luck looking through jedi registries. If the kid was 50 years old he might have been registered by the Jedi Order before the Empire was established. She sent an encoded message to a researcher she knew who had been researching Jedi once the Republic lifted the ban the Empire had implemented, the two of them had collaborated when looking at the mandalorian-jedi wars. The comms link crackled and she reached for it, pressing the button.

“Mando?” 

“Kid still out?” She looked over, a bit surprised to find he still was. Maybe he was getting ready for a growth spurt.

“Yeah.” She nibbled on a ration bar, not really that concerned, figuring he was just checking on the kid.

“Good, come out.” 

“Are you testing me again?” She said in confusion, but still fixing her braids into a bun and putting on her shoes. 

“No. Target is somewhere I can’t go. Need a female.” That was not what she had expected, but she had promised to help earn the fuel they needed to get where they need to go. She opened the hatch, locking it back again. Hopefully the kid would be okay without supervision for a bit. She exits the space port, about to reach for him on the Comm link again when he walks up to her and gently grabs her arm, taking her down a dark side alley where no one could see. “Push your top up.” Andora’s eyes widen in shock, her hand lifting reflexively to slap him before she remembers that her hand versus his armor would end badly for her. “You need to take a weapon, I can fix the holster around you so it can hide under your top.” 

“Why didn’t we do this at the ship?” She hissed at him, blushing as she pulled her top up a respectable height, keeping herself covered, his gloved hands putting the rough leather of the holster around her, pushing it higher up and she eeps, pulling back from him. “Hey! Watch it! Just tell me and I can finish it myself.” She turned her back to him, pushing the stupid holster up closer to her breasts, wishing she had bound them down now. “Hand me the blaster.” Din noticed some scarring but said nothing.

“Vibroblade actually.” He still gives her the weapon, and she slid it in, feeling awkward as the handle is now under her breasts. “You just need to flush him out. I’ll take him from there.” She pulled down her shirt, trying to make sure it wasn’t showing. He pulled up the puck, letting her get a look at the face of a green male Twi’lek. She looked over the details, trying to remember as much as she could about this guy so she would be helpful. Satisfied that she knew what she needed he led her once more through the crowded city, going from the nicer edge of the space port to a poorer one. As they got closer he pulled her aside, pointing out the building she was supposed to enter. A widowed woman’s shelter, judging from the sign and from the looks of the older women having tea on the patio.

“Are you sure he’s in there?” She was getting herself ready, wanting this to be smooth and easy. 

“Tailed him from the betting office.” His tone was firm and she figured that meant he was absolutely sure. 

“Why didn’t you just drag him out?” She smoothed her clothes again, fidgeting slightly. 

“War widows in there. Last thing they need is a heavily armed masked man marching in and dragging someone off.” Andora hadn’t realized he would be so considerate of that kind of trauma, but she agreed now that he was right. She had to be the one to go get the guy. “Good luck.” He pushed her out to prompt her to move and she decided to just get this done as soon as possible. If the man was hiding in there, she needed to keep these ladies safe from him, or from other bounty hunters that might do exactly what Mando hadn’t wanted to. The older women on the patio looked her over, a mix of species who banded together. Andora smiled as brightly as she could, coming over to the Togruta woman who was wearing a red feathered hat, sitting in the center of the group. She seemed like the leader here. 

“Hello ladies...so sorry to bother you, I was looking for an associate of mine. Has anyone come in recently?” The women all appraised her, murmuring among themselves. 

“I assume you want the same one that Mandalorian was asking about.” Her voice was firm and she leveled a firm stare at Andora before looking past her to where the Mando was waiting. Andora nodded her head, not seeing the benefit of lying to the woman. “Then I tell you the same as I told him before. No.” 

“Ma’am, the person has a bounty on them. You and the others here won’t be safe from other hunters. Mando just wants to respect you by having me come collect the person. I don’t want to hurt him.” She was using her tour guide voice, trying to be respectful despite her rising temper.

“We know what it’s like to not be safe girl. The answer is no.” Andora really did not want to do this but if she was going to be difficult then so be it. Ignoring the women she walked inside, the older women all gasping that she had just blatantly passed by them. She walked into the main area, scanning the room, spotting a group Twi’lek women, but she could feel discomfort from that side of the room. She walked over there, taking deep breaths as she got ready for what she needed to do. 

“Dob’fuji. Please come outside.” The Twi’lek women flinched, moving rank to be tighter together, shielding the hiding male. “Look, I don’t know what the bounty is for, and really it’s not my business. I’m doing this as a favor. He doesn’t want to retraumatize war widows by having to drag you out, but he’s probably not the only one with your puck.” The room went deathly quiet, the women not budging. “Just look at me please, Face to face.” She let some of her manipulation slide into her tone, a hand coming from between the long skirts and Andora rolled her eyes as she kneeled down to look into a scared face. 

“Please...I’ll pay your guy double to leave me here.” He was holding out some credits, but she didn’t move to take them, instead focusing her breathing as she looked into the male’s eyes.

“Mandalorians can’t do that. He said he’d bring you in. He is going to keep his word.” The man slowly lowered his hand, tears in his eyes. “We all pay for our choices, right or wrong. Right now you are hiding to avoid whatever it is. If you have any sort of honor, come with me now, and don’t put these women in further danger. The next person might have no qualms about shooting their way in or out of here. Do you want that for them?” There was a tense silence, the women from outside surrounding her now. The Togruta woman pulling her up and pointing at the doorway. Andora had put as much manipulation into her voice as she could without making it obvious. As Andora took a few steps there was hushed tones and pleas from the Twi’lek women in their own language before soft sniffling. The young Twi’lek male was walking calmly beside her, trying to wipe his eyes to look braver than he felt. Andora took his hand comfortingly, trying to help calm him as they left the building, Twi’lek women wailing softly in mourning as they left. “You did the right thing.” Andora said. 

“Their going to kill me...I don’t have enough to pay off my debt.” The man sniffled, and she controlled her reaction. 

“Well...maybe you should offer to work off the debt then. The honorable way.” She was trying to be helpful, seeing Mando waiting for her with cuffs out for the man. She felt it snap, her small measure of control over him lost, and he was panicking now as he realized he was facing his own retribution. She didn’t need to hear the gasps of shock from behind her or the clank of the cuffs falling as Mando pulled his blaster. She had felt the murderous intent when her control of him snapped, her hand slipping up under her shirt and freeing the vibroblade from the holster. It was scary how easy it was to slip back into the kill or be killed mentality. Before she really processed what happened she had the blade in the Twi’lek’s stomach. His own knife dropping limp to the ground as he clutched at the wound. She stepped away, blood splattering on the ground as she had pulled the blade out with the motion. The women were screaming, and she really wished she had put more effort into controlling him so they would have at least turned the corner before this happened. With a sigh Andora wiped the blade on the man’s clothes to keep it free of blood and put it back in the holster, kicking his own knife aside as Mando rushed up. 

“It’s half if he dies.” Came a slightly annoyed tone from Din’s modulated voice, but she wasn’t sorry. That blade would have been in her back and she would be the one bleeding out instead. 

“Well, he did offer to pay you if you left him here. What do you need for proof of death?” Pragmatism at its finest. 

“He couldn’t pay to avoid me coming.” Oh, fair point. She walked back over to the screaming women, the Togruta woman just glaring at her. 

“Do you have a medical droid, if we hurry a bacta spray should hold him.” It felt like longer than it really was before the droid was marching outside towards the Twi’lek, a lot of blood coating the ground. Din had cuffed the dying man, the droid doing its job for the most part. 

“I told you to flush him out.” Din said to Andora as she stood next to him. “Comfortable, not reckless.”

“He was literally hiding under their skirts.” She sighed, the droid finishing its work, keeping the bounty alive. Andora pulled the Twi’leks credits out and passed them to the droid for the shelter. “I shouldn’t have walked next to him. You are right about that. I’ll be more careful. Thank you for aiming at him when he did turn coward.” 

“Would it kill you to say sorry.” Din asked, picking up the Twi’leks cuffs and getting ready to toss him over his shoulder to drag back to the ship. Andora picked up the legs, helping him carry the weight between them so he wasn’t in a position where the body blocked his line of sight. They carried the man back in silence, most people staying out of Din’s way. Every so often security droids would ask, but when he gave them his guild code they let them pass. The man did not put up resistance going in the carbonite. Blood loss would do that to a person. The kid was up now, seeing the pair of them and squeaking happily as he made grabbing hands at Din, the ‘uir’ sound coming from his mouth. As annoyed as Din was, that made him put aside his feelings and come grab the kid, letting the little guy climb up his armor plating. She closed the doors, taking her time now to fold up her cot and sat on the small bench,seemingly deep in thought. Ignoring her he went up to the cockpit, starting the takeoff before he had to pay for more time. 

Sitting in the cockpit now Din had the kid in his lap, listening to the amount of new sounds the kid was making. He started naming each of the switches and buttons he touched, not concerned with explaining them now. The kid was listening, watching, and hopefully learning. After a couple hours, on the way to the next bounty he heard her slowly coming the ladder, pausing before poking her head up into the cockpit. 

“Mando, can I come up?”

“It’s fine.” He called out, the kid playing once more with the metal ball, seeming to roll it between his hands. She came up, taking her seat behind him. 

“I spent four years with Barabels, they detest apologies. Barabels viewed it as a way to try and avoid taking responsibility for one's actions. So yes, I grew up learning that apologies would kill me.” She chuckled lightly, trying to lighten the mood. “I picked it up from them. Most of the time if someone was sorry they wouldn’t do it. Like that guy, he wasn’t sorry about running on his debt, he wasn’t sorry about putting those people in danger, or that he was going to stab me and run for it. He was sorry for himself that his actions caught up with him.” 

“How did you live with Barabels? Their rare for even out here.” He couldn’t deny her logic. He was rarely sorry for things he did. When he had done something he was actually sorry for, it has cost him everything.

“That’s where I am going.” She was looking at her hands, glad blood had not gotten on her clothes. “That's what's out in the Albanin system. The first rocky planet is called Barab 1. It’s their homework.” He turned to look at her like she was crazy. 

“You want to go to the Barabel homeworld?” He turned to look at her, staring at her through his visor, trying to convey the disbelief he was feeling.

“Yeah, my friend, if she’s still in charge of her clan will take the relic and hide it somewhere safe. Their culture venerates Jedi, and welcomed me as a warrior in training. Once I explain to her she and her clan will make sure its safe.” 

“Do they know that Manadlorians hunted and killed Jedi?” This sounded like a terrible idea. Bad enough he had to find these enemy space wizards, now he had to go to a planet full of warriors that love those space wizards while being their enemy. 

“Her clan understood that I was not a Jedi killer and they will be happy to help.” She was placing too many variables out of his control.

“What about the kid and me?” 

“They won’t hurt him, you may have to prove yourself in a hunt, but being my escort and being a Jedi baby’s guardian will help a lot. Just don’t say you’re sorry, and address the females first. They are a matriarchal clan system since only females know which offspring are their own.”

“Did you prove yourself?” 

“After three years of training, yeah. She and I hunted and killed a durgolosk together. I’ll definitely need to start training again before we get there. It wouldn’t be good for me to let you hunt it alone.” She sounded like she had made up her mind, assuming he was just going to go along with this. 

“I can hunt alone.” It would take weeks for her to be back in condition to actually fight. 

“That’s not the point. I am asking them to trust you, I have to show them I trust you too. If I can’t hunt with you, they won’t either. If you don’t hunt with me you stay in the den. I highly doubt you want to stay in the den with them if I went and hunted anyway. Some females may be waiting on eggs to hatch.” He suppressed a shudder. He had heard the stories. Females of the species were supposed to be worse. 

“Fine.” She would need to train anyway. Can’t have her losing control like earlier and making mistakes. It might cost more than credits next time. “How did you get there?”

“Escape pod from the Hutt Junker I was on. It was the closest planet. I didn’t pick it, the pods systems did. But I like to think it was the Force, trying to direct me where I needed to go.” And she wanted to get back on a Hutt ship. Was she just trying to relieve this old experience?

“Don’t they eat human?” It was the reason most people avoided them. They were voracious eaters, and had been known to eat other sentient beings if the other wasn’t careful to keep enough food on board. 

“I was just twelve. Zalle of Reka Clan found me and took me to her den. They were going to eat me, but when I started fighting back for my life...She laughed, called me funny. They let me live, learned to hunt, to fight, and kill from them. It was after we killed the durgolosk she became clan leader and officially declared me not food but a war sister. I branded it as my sigil that night with her help too.” Her hand moved fondly to the side of her thigh, and he was curious. What did this beast look like? 

“So is this when you were making bone armor?” He hadn’t forgotten that gruesome detail. 

“When the Empire started letting a company send trophy hunters to the planet it wasn’t a big deal at first. They said if you failed the hunt and got killed it was your own fault. But...then…” He could hear the crack in her voice, a painful memory. “Clan Reka had a friendly rivalry with another clan in the area. They worked together so we could get food before the monsoons. At night, hunting and battle practices, things like that. It was nice.” She looked at her hands, thinking about how to phrase the next part. “The trophy company’s scouting droids found their den...and a day soon after...the hunters went and slaughtered them. It’s a red sun planet, so they were trapped in the caves, and the human trophy hunters were using remote droids, not even hunting them in person.” The kid seemed to sense her sadness, coming over and demanding to be in her lap and receive attention. “Like I said, the Barabels were good sports about the poaching, seeing it as just another challenge, and they were even willing to forgive the slaughter until we found that they smashed every last egg. That was too much. The clans declared war on the offworlders. When we found another group of hunters...we slaughtered them. Barabels eat a lot of meat, and after the battle, there wasn’t time to hunt. So...They ate.” 

“Imperials got involved after that?” Din could understand the hostile response, it was a story that repeated many times. Imperials allowed killing of innocents and it rallied resistance.

“Barabels believe in taking trophies of kills back to the den...and well...I needed better armor, and to be more intimidating to my enemies. Plus days are 60 standard hours so I had a crap ton of free time.” That was unsettling. Din was really not looking forward to going to this planet. 

“Did you eat people?” Din had to know for his own sense of security.

“Kill them, yes. Make really crappy art projects with their corpses, yes. Eat them. No. The planet does have fruits and veggies, and I don’t need to eat 30 kilos of meat every day like Barabels do. But I understand that I didn’t look good, being captured covered in bones, blood, and screaming in the native language. And them seeing half eaten trooper bodies everywhere. They thought I ate them. It probably helped though because being seen as a cannibal made troopers less liking to try anything inappropriate with a female prisoner.” She was helping the kid roll the ball again, figuring the child was trying to make it levitate again. He let the conversation drop after that, mulling over what he had just learned about her, and reanalyzing the stabbing from earlier. She eventually took the kid down back down, starting up her vocabulary practice with him. 

* * *

“Breaking News. We just have confirmed reports that Restorationist Goz Kahl was assassinated at negotiations with Senator Ordot, who was also grazed by blaster fire. Death Watch has claimed responsibility for the attack, and for the attack on the Museum. It has been confirmed by audio recordings released by the Senator’s office that Andora Vizsla was kidnapped by a member of Death Watch after being forced to steal the relic. The Senator’s office is asking that anyone that sees her please report it so they can rescue her and return her and the relic to safety here on Mandalore.” The news droid was saying as footage of the days events scrolled by to the side, market exchange numbers ticking by below. 

“Restorationist are currently holding a vigil for their fallen member, with enhanced security to protect them from further attacks by the extremist group. Pacifists have been encouraged to join in the vigil, as a sign of solidarity for all Mandalorians to mourn a man who served for years with grace, dignity, and honor as the head of security for the Capital city of Sundari.” The holonet broadcast was shut off, Ordot watching from his bed, recovering from the blaster shot. He waved his aides out of the room, resting for a bit he considered his plan. 

Andora had correctly guessed that Kahl was part of Death Watch, which had not been part of the plan. His enforcer had gone and cleaned up the man’s home, making him out to be the model citizen everyone was mourning now. He had also stopped the recording they had been making of Andora, needing her to be captured alive. Her being part of Death Watch meant that deadly force could be used, and then he would lose the location to the Vizsla beskar mines. Besides, a rescue mission would win over more supporters. She trusted him still, if he could get the Helm from her willingly, it would be an endorsement for when he went public with the claim of Mand’alor. Another message was coming through on his private communication channel, this one highly encrypted. He accepted it, seeing the visage of a man that still sent chills down his spine. 

“Moff Gideon.” Ordot said, lowering his head as best as he could in his injured state. 

“Seems you had a rough day. I do hope that the other Vizsla relic is recovered soon. I know how important the pair of relics are for a proper succession. If you want the title Mand’alor I need you to fulfill on the beskar you said you could supply for armoring my troops.” The words were dripping in a thinly veiled threat. 

“I appreciate your care of the darksaber while we await the rescue of the relic and the girl. Once we have the Vizsla girl, I will be able to begin the excavation of beskar.”

“Good, I do not appreciate how difficult your people are being. The clan that used to be on Nevarro had already caused me much trouble. It seems a shame to drive all of your kind to extinction when you can be such useful imperial soldiers.” Ordot bit his tongue, needing to keep the Moff on good terms. 

* * *

Chapter end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used is from The Avatar: Last Air Bender cartoon, sung by Iroh about his son. It just really worked for the idea of a warrior lullaby.


	3. Mimic

The second hunt had been easy, Mando letting her and the kid roam in the small town, while he did his work. The planet was mostly oceans but they were on a large island, charming white plaster buildings and thatched roofed stands selling fruits, spiced meats, and trinkets of shells and sand. Tourists meandering about and kids playing in little wave pools as their parents watched. She had put the kid in a simple top instead of the heavy robe, not wanting him to overheat, putting a small hat she bought on him to protect his skin from the sun. She wore blue leggings and a white flowing top, having bound her breasts down and the vibroblade holstered under her top and the flute in the bag slung over her shoulder. Andora kind of hoped this job would take a while, the breeze was refreshing on a sunny day. The kid had been excited about the water playground but there were teenagers that were too aggressive for her liking with smaller children. But hesitantly she let him go, watching in interest at how easily he swam. The hint about amphibian like species seemed even more on point now. The kids were all excited by the little guy, but some of the teenage boys moved over as well. One of the teens picked him up, about to toss him like a ball, the smaller children all crying out.

“ENOUGH!” Her voice echoed in the suddenly silent space, all the kids and adults turning to look at Andora. She was used to bullying when the tour groups came in, her voice booming through the normal volume of children to refocus their attentions. The boy who picked up the kid looked her over, not seeing the threat and not releasing her current charge. She walked over swiftly into the water, shoulders squared, and looked into the boy’s eyes. “I do not care what manners your parents allow! You will gently put him down and go play somewhere else!” There was a strange quality to Andora’s voice. The teen obeyed her, the kid swimming behind her, clutching her leg. Andora might have used a bit too much control with the teen as he walked away, his friends all piling on him for backing down to a woman. Good thing she had not worn boots, sandals would dry soon enough.She stayed standing in the pool, smiling and chatting nicely with the smaller children and they seemed much happier now that the teens had abandoned the small play space. A drunk woman eventually came up to Andora, manicured nails pointing in her face as the woman spoke in slurred words. 

“Who you th-hic think you are? Yelling at my-hic my son?” Andora ignored the woman, the little guy starting to get tired from so much play time and she scooped him up. “Excuse me! I AM TALKING TO YOU.” The woman tried to grab Andora’s shoulder to force her to stay so the drunk woman could get her attention. Andora gripped the woman’s wrist and gave it a slight twist, the woman howling disproportionately in her drunken state, falling to the floor. Other parents watching in interest, seems they also did not like the way the teens had been playing but had not stood up. Other passersby watching for the gossip. 

“Ma’am, your son was about to throw a baby. You should consider it lucky all I did was yell at him. Raise him with some honor. If he needs to harm babies to be accomplished with his friends, you have failed greatly as a parent. Have a pleasant day and enjoy your vacation.” Andora once more spoke in her tour guide voice, the overly polite tone at heavy odds with the woman sprawled on the floor, her drink spilled on her bathing suit, her pride and drunken bravado gone. Taking the kid Andora walked off, feeling the woman’s frustration and shame, the rich woman not used to being talked down to. “Hey kido, let's not tell Mando about that.” 

“I could hear you from across the Island.” She yelped in surprise as he spoke up from behind her, not expecting him there. He was chuckling at her as he took the babbling child from her. “Didn’t see me coming?” 

“Who could predict you.” She said with a roll of her eyes, walking off with him towards the town center. There were retaining walls surrounding the island, the beaches all protected calm water, but waves could still be heard crashing against it. “Done with your hunt?” 

“They’re loaded on already.” The kid was cuddled into Din’s arms, resting after swimming. Andora was a bit sad he was so efficient, she wanted to stay a little longer. 

“I was hoping to take a swim before you were done.” She said wistfully, looking at the sparkling blue water between the shore and the retaining wall. “This is wonderful to be outside with real...everything. No dome, no artificial cycles.” 

“You and the kid were just in the wading pool back there.” His tone was matter of fact, his own stomach grumbling for a meal. 

“I couldn’t swim in the shallow water. Plus I was busy keeping him safe.” He could see her pale skin turning slightly pink from being in the sun. 

“He would have saved himself.” Din said confidently.

“Yeah, and then everyone would have been gossiping about a magic baby instead of an angry woman. Angry women are common, magic babies not so much.” Andora stopped walking as she spoke, the urge to just cool down her heated skin so strong. She reached under her top and removed the blade and its holster, putting it in her bag and marching off towards the beach. She heard his heavy footsteps in the sand behind her, and she left the bag safely on the shore. She removed her shoes as well, walking into the calm water, letting her senses reach out into the water, sensing nothing but small fish and farmed sea life off near the fish market. Before Din could stop her she had already walked out in the crystal clear waters to her shoulders, ducking her head under to wet herself and lazily floating. “Why is no one else out here?” She swam out a bit further, the water only a few feet deeper, but still crystal clear.

“Because the local fish eat flesh. Now Get Back Here.” He sounded really pissed with her, and she realized he was going to drag her back to shore quickly with the grapple hook. There was a rush of water as a school of small fish rushed over to her, swimming around her in a circle. She wasn’t panicking, just remaining calm as the fish sized her up. The kid was giggling, reaching out towards her and the fish, the idea of swimming again exciting him. Andora’s eyes widened, and she began making thrashing motions in the water, but instead of screams of distress she was laughing. The fish were barely as long as a trigger finger but their sucking mouths latched onto her skin. His wire wrapped around her and the motor dragged her back to shore, fish releasing her as she left the water, the school of fish waiting at the edge of the water as she was being coated in sand. As he looked her over he saw there was indeed no damage to her flesh, but her white top and the white fabric of her breast bindings now soaked through. 

“That tickled a lot. Little buggers must be starving.” She smiled up at him. “Take off a glove, it’s a really interesting sensation. They eat dead flesh.” She once more stuck her feet into the water, squealing in delight as she had the little sucking mouths on her feet. Feeling the little fish sucking and scraping away the callouses on her feet from normal wear and tear. “It’s a free natural spa treatment.” The kid walked up to the edge of the water, the fish ignoring him for the most part, swimming around him but apparently his skin was not enough to feed from. He unlatched his grappler from around her, annoyed with her recklessness. But as the fish got their fill of the skin on her feet she rolled up the legs of her pants and walked back out further, making sure the fish did not swim up her left pant leg past her knee by tying that leg. Fish rushed up under her shirt as she stood deeper in the water. Giggling less as the fish striped her of dead skin. Her and the kid seemed fine, so he pulled off a glove, putting just his pinky within the water, the fish rushing to his hand, and she watched in interest as his shoulder twitched. He pulled his hand back after the experience. 

“I wonder why they claimed these fish were dangerous.” Din watched as she swam around in the water, the fish leaving now that they had eaten their fill or all they could from her. The kid was following her as best he could, but she was not watching him now. Din was here, and could take over for it. She was fairly competent as a swimmer, not professional but fast and able to hold her breath for long spans of time. The kid squeaked for her attention, and Din could see the hesitation before she swam over to the kid, putting him on her stomach as she floated. 

“To bad you have armor on, once the tickling stops it’s really wonderful.” 

“I can swim in armor.” He stated, Andora just rolled her eyes as she drifted in the calm water. 

“Hey, I get the helm rule, but when did you last have a briikasak of any type without the rest on?” (run-ashore) Andora dunked her head under water and held it there for a long beat, the kid tapping her out of concern before she brought her face up. 

“No time for it anymore.” There was a hint of fondness as he reminisced. She walked back to shore, passing him the kid as she looked around. 

“Can you please hold your cloak out to the side a bit?” He relented to her request, wishing he had turned around as she stripping her clinging wet top off, now standing there in just her pants and her breast bindings as she wrung out the excess water in her top, getting as much water out as she could before slipping it back on. “Thanks.” She reached out and squeezed his ungloved hand lightly. “And thank you for saving me. I’ll buy you something nice for dinner. Narir gar epar heturam?” (Do you eat spicy?) 

“Cuyir Ni va Mando?” (Am I not Mandalorian?) Din chuckled, pulling his glove back on, feeling in a better mood for some reason. She put the bag over her shoulder, the kid protesting at having to spend more energy on walking after lots of swimming, both of them turning to pick the little guy up. She stopped and let Din pick the kid up, the pair walking away from the shore. “We should leave soon.” 

Unknown to them the small school of friendly fish they had been swimming with was being eaten by a large clam that blended in near perfectly with the water that was a few meters away from where Din had originally dragged her back from, the school of fish being sucked in. Had she swam a little further she would have been dragged into the current created by the shell opening and locked in the shell like the fish that were now going to be digested. 

“Let me bathe on planet so we can save water, I’ll wash Pirpak with me so he doesn’t smell too. I’m pretty sure he will sleep for a while after all the exercise today.” 

“You named him soup?” His voice was firm but she could feel his amusement in his relaxed posture. 

“Just a nickname, I couldn’t stand having no name to call him.” She was walking towards a cheap motel near the landing docks, the sign outside saying hourly rates. “If you get a room for him and I to bathe in I will run to the ship for fresh clothes.” She pressed her credits in his hand and left without giving him a chance to refuse her. Her taking off at a light jog towards the ship. 

She did grab fresh clothes for both of her and little Pirpak, collecting his floating crib so he wouldn’t need to be carried. Stopping by a vendor that was selling very spicy food Andora probably spent more credits than she should, but it was fine. She could earn more. Carrying a few travel trays of food she went back to the motel, asking about which room the Mando was in. The local aquatic species shopkeeper told her and she went to the room, her hands full so she tapped the door with her foot. “Skraan.” The door opened and she was greeted by her own reflection in his glistening helmet. He stepped aside and let her in, locking the door behind her and she saw how dark the room was as he had pulled the curtains tight. She set the food on the table, the pram followed behind her. “One is for him, you take anything else you want. I’ll take a while, I am going to change my hair color while I have the counter space.” She did not wait for his words as she went into the bathroom, glad to see the massive bath and shower that was supposed to be used for lovers but she planned to use to pamper herself. 

Using some of the motel supplied soap she had a bubble bath started with lukewarm water as she washed Pirpak, taking care to get into his wrinkles and wash the ears for any sand that might have stowed away. The kid was barely keeping his eyes open, his little body exhausted from more playtime than he had in decades. Wrapped in the towel Andora pulled out a freshly washed robe for the little green guy, him falling asleep as soon as he was dressed and laid down on the cushioned bed. Statsified with his hygiene she striped down and washed their clothes in the draining water from his bath and turning the water to hotter for herself. Hanging the clothes up to dry in the shower she plugged the tub again, filling it with more soap for her own bubble bath. Sliding into the steaming water she let herself moan, her skin much more sensitive from the skin eating fish. Now that the child was asleep she felt herself coming down from a slight happy fog she had been in since Mando found her earlier. She looked towards the sleeping child as she washed the sand from her waist long purple locks. Andora couldn’t bring herself to be annoyed with the kid. He was doing what all kids did. He was looking for a safe loving home. 

The child had claimed the Mando as his father, and was just trying to build a safe life. The kid was much too strong for his lack of skill and understanding. Pirpak has been influencing her and Mando to be more friendly towards each other. That was why he had been so relaxed, and why she had flirted so shamelessly with him. She would have to figure out a way to help teach the child to not manipulate others emotions. It was probably her fault, he must have picked up on her use of Force to calm the teenager into freeing him, and his instincts responded by wanting the two caregivers in his life to get along. Washing her hair and body free of sand, Andora did allow her mind to think on her escort, and had to admit that the flirting was not completely the kid’s influence. This Mando was the strong silent type, a skilled warrior, and him being such a sweet dad was really appealing. 

In her late teens and early twenties she had been attracted to the bad boys, the ones that ‘rebelled’ and earned her father’s glare of disapproval. Drawn to boys that picked stupid fights, because she was just lost after being freed from the camp, missing her fulfilling life on Barab 1 of hunting and feeling like she was a warrior with purpose. Being striped from all that and being told to fit back into the mold of a well behaved girl, not the warrior she had been clawing her way towards. It always felt like the bad boys would be the only ones that could understand her adventure off world, but her affections for them fell away quickly when they called her a freak and monster when she tried to share any of her experiences. It wasn’t until she went back to playing music and advancing in her academics did she find her experiences were as exciting to others as to herself. Her friends inspired to write songs while her practical experience with bone crafting helping lead her into the position she had at the museum. 

Now in her early thirties she cringed as she thought back on all those young flings, saying if she were going to crush on anyone, at least it was a man who was a massive step up. He was wary of her for good reason, but he was smart, picked his battles, and that mysterious face hiding under his mask meant she could imagine any face she wished under his helmet. He was not a hulking man, but he was taller than her, and his confidence was definitely sexy. As proud as he was as a warrior, he also took his responsibility as a father seriously. That sent a shiver down her spine. An excited shiver, and she blushed as she let that simmer in her mind. She was at the age where she wanted kids, and finding a man who was so paternal really kicked that attraction into a higher gear. That or she was just missing a mans touch after a few years without it.

The water was getting cold and she decided to actually start on coloring her hair. Standing at the bathroom counter she opened the bottle of dye. When she had done the purple hair she had left her eyebrows her natural brown, but in order to avoid looking like herself she would color them as well. She pulled the vibroblade from her bag, turning off the vibration so it could just cut normally. Andora was going to miss the length. With an ease that only came from correctly sharpened blades she cut her hair to a few inches below her shoulders on both sides. Collecting her cut hair she put it in a knot to keep from leaving behind evidence of her changed appearance, going to throw it away somewhere else. From purple she was going to a rich cobalt blue color, easily putting the color through her hair and applying it to her eyebrows. She washed the eyebrows first before moving the dried clothes to the counter and starting a shower. The time she had spent applying color allowed for more hot water to fill the shower. Rinsing the color was faster than her bath, and it had been over an hour of her in the bathroom. She put on her grey pants and the purple shirt again, leaving the blue sweater on the ship since it was warm out. A knock at the bathroom door had her attention as she finished cleaning up her hair dye. 

“You and the kid should come eat.” That was his permission for her to exit the bathroom, seeing that the lights were on now as she entered to join him at the table. He rose to stand and meet her. Andora looking into his visor at where she figured his eyes were as she smiled, noticing his head tilt and his gloved hand touch her cobalt hair. “It looks different. Good choice.” Damn it. His simple statement made her heart skip a beat like she was a teen again. The lack of reflecting light drew her eyes down to where he was not wearing armor anymore, just in his fabric armor layers. Heat rushed to her cheeks, and Mando walked into the bathroom, the pair of them trading places, her being free to eat and relax while he washed up. 

The heat from the spices in the food was a welcome relief from the blush that he had caused by simply leaving his armor laid out with care on the bed and being so exposed. The only non-spicy food was what she had ordered for Pirpak, but he was still peacefully sleeping. She saved his meal and tossed the empty trays into the trash. The sound of the shower running was doing strange things to her, wondering about the water running over his body. Like she had taken her time to indulge in the bath and shower he took a longer shower than she had heard him take on the ship. The water must feel wonderful against his skin since he had been wearing so many layers of fabric and the heat would ease his muscles from having to carry the heavy armor itself. The beskar was glinting tantalizingly from the bed, and she bit her lip. Sucking the last of the spicy sauce from her fingertips she eyed the armor pieces, listening as the shower to gauge if he was coming back. His armor could tell her so much about him, and unfair amount to be honest. It would sing of all the things it had been there to witness. Hesitating she found herself inching over to them, wanting to listen to the songs it would sing, but knowing it wasn’t right. This was not a fallen warrior or a warrior from ages past. He was very much alive, and naked behind that door. It would be a complete breach of privacy and his trust to touch his armor and learn his stories when he was choosing not to share. 

She looked at herself reflecting in the pieces, wondering if she would ever get to wear anything like it herself. Her bone and plaster affixed to the cheap imperial pieces had never made her feel as powerful as this armor did by just looking at it. At the museum she had been under imperial watch to not wear the armor she was restoring, the armors calling her to wear them and be a true Mandalorian. The day Empire had fallen, she had allowed herself to slip once into listening to that voice. Putting Tarre’s helm on, and it had moved her to tears hearing the glory of his battle song. It had shown her how to find the burial tomb that he and others of their clan were buried in, out hidden in cliffs of the once beautiful planet. After she had found it she had dug up her family's graves up and moved them to join their clan. She had left a space for herself to join them too one day. The call to wear armor didn’t stop, but she channeled it instead into the efforts to reclaim stolen armors and bring them home, hoping that them being seen by others would continue to kindle the fire of Mandalore. 

It was how he found her, staring at the glistening plates but her mind walking down a very different road. He had washed himself and redressed in his fabric armor layers. He observed her quietly as she just looked at herself in his armor, and she hated that he had seen her wipe away tears. 

“The food was good, thank you.” He said evenly as he started redressing in his armor, and he felt her eyes watching him closely. Normally it would unnerve him but he understood. It wasn’t really 'him' Andora was looking at. They had quietly left the hotel, and he watched her throw the cut locks of hair into an open fire pit as they passed, the smell of burning hair very unpleasant but it was the only way to fully remove evidence. The sun was setting as they got back on the ship. “Any leads for the kid?”

“I’ll check my encoded messages. I had a friend looks into the Jedi temple’s registries on Coruscant from before the Empire. Hopefully we will get a lead in any of the kids born 50 years ago.” She walked up into the ship, him quickly following her and locking the ship to keep out prying ears. 

“Wait, you mean these wizards had a secret base on Coruscant?” She couldn’t tell if he was hopeful or worried she had a real lead.

“Jedi used to have their main temple on Coruscant, they were exterminated by the Empire after the Clone War. Their temple wasn’t a secret, they acted as generals during the clone wars, and before that they were peacekeepers for the Republics. Part of why our two cultures clashed. They wanted us to stop the expansion of Mandalorian space and our more...brutal war tactics. We did not want to so it lead to the war between our groups.” She was pulling out her data pad, checking for the email. 

“But as recent as the Clone Wars these wizards were part of the Galactic order?” He put back weapons into the locker, mulling over this new information. 

“Not Wizards, Jedi. They were battle monks.” She corrected calmly. “They stayed mostly in the inner and middle rims, they did come to the outer rim in search of force sensitive children to take into the order though.” She followed him up into the cockpit, them leaving the kid down below to sleep.

“Why did they look for children?” 

“They didn’t believe in having families, so...once a student became a Jedi they never had children. Only way for more Jedi to be trained was to find them. Part of the reason Tarre Vizsla left the Jedi order, he wanted children, to raise them as Mandalorians, so he had to leave. I’m grateful he did, or else I wouldn’t be here.” Sitting to his back left she looked at her data pad, thinking of her next step. “That and being called to be Mand’alor, which he could not be our leader and serve another master.” She watched his hands move along the switches and buttons with skill and ease, the pair falling into a comfortable silence. He was checking the star charts to see the best route to the last hunt he had. This one would be a bit more dangerous, but after that they could park and give her some time to ‘freshen up’ on her hunting skills. “I think I’ll get some sleep, I’ll be up in a few hours so you can get some rest to.”

“I’ll be good for a while.” His tone was soft, but she could tell he appreciated her offer. Once more dropping down she opened her cot. Andora began her routine before sleep, unbinding her breasts and slipping into a sleeping outfit as she set aside her clothes. As she laid down she let her mind drift back over the days events. 

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. Adkote, ner ori'vod. Catul, cyare Buir. Ner echoy'la sayri'r, A’sarad.” (I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Adkote, my older brother. Catul, beloved father. My lost mother, A’sarad.) Andora recited as she had a moment to herself while Mando was occupied flying the ship, the two bounties not able to overhear her in their carbonite sleep. 

\---------

Din could hear her soft recitation, and silently recited the names of his own family. Both his birth parents and all the members of his clan that had been decimated to make amends for his failure. He had not traveled with another Mandalorian since his teens when he had first been shown the process of the hunt, and then it had been another man, the veteran hunter who taught him so much. It was the same man that had rescued him from the night of a thousand tears. That man had sponsored Din, and had become his father, much as he was father now to the kid. That man had been the last one to see his face. When he was certain she was deep asleep he turned off the lights, and removed his helmet gain, running his hands through his dark hair, feeling better after the shower and washing the clothes he wore under all his layers. 

When Andora had asked him when was the last time he had a “shore leave” before being so forward with him by standing there without her top, the suggestion of the seedy motel had been slightly mortifying but she had left without giving him time to argue. When she came back with food and then locked herself away in the bathroom he had been relieved, she had genuinely wanted a bath, and was not going to try and seduce him in poor taste with his child in the room. The spicy finger foods she had bought for them was a pleasant surprise, and while he normally would not be swayed by food, it had been a good way to buy good will with him. He doubted she realized she sings or hums while relaxing, hearing her through the door. Where he had seen more pronounced scars the first time he saw her skin it seemed the fish had eaten the old wounds and left smoother skin it their wake, the scars more faded. He had seen the swell of her breasts bound down firmly, so when the fabric was wet, he could see the hints of the nipples beneath. He would treat it as nonchalantly as she had. She had been trying to dry her shirt, and asked him for more modestity in the task, but no further sexual advances. 

Maybe he was just starting to miss some female companionship after a very long time without it. Most women wanted the helmet off, not understanding why he couldn’t, or used the relationship as leverage against him. His last run in with Xi’an was a reminder of how scorned lovers were a problem. But thinking back to Omera, it had been tempting, so tempting to give another relationship a chance, but to be with her would be a loss of himself. Shaking his head, he needed to focus his full effort on the kid. The kid needed him, so his own desires would be neglected till he was positive he had done everything he could. He was pulled from his thoughts by an alert of an incoming transmission for him. 

“My friend, I don’t know if you have heard the news, but there is a massive reward being offered for anyone that can rescue the kidnapped Andora Vizsla and the relic. The Government of Mandalore is offering half a million credit reward since they say she has been kidnapped by a radical group of terrorists called Death Watch. When the guild members heard it would mean going against more Mando’s they all turned coward. Knowing how much you need for fuel while on your search I figured I should tell you about it, maybe you could at least convince the other mando’s to release her and turn her over for the reward. Good luck friend.” Greef Karga’s voice was echoing within the ship, and Din felt a knot in his stomach. She was still sleeping peacefully below. Erasing the message Din took the ship out of hyperspace to think. He had already agreed to take her in exchange for her help with finding the Jedi for the kid. Even if he hadn’t, something felt wrong with the whole situation. He had rescued her while the New Republic had been searching the skies. How could anyone have known about him? 

He let her say what she wanted about Death Watch because she had a very different view of their actions as both a relative of a former leader and as someone that lived on the planet dealing with the aftermath of their failed actions. It was clear she did not understand that the Death Watch was not a monolithic group. The Death Watch had rescued him and given him purpose after saving his life. But for her, she saw their actions as a division between two pieces of a whole she wanted to join together. He and the kid were Clan Mudhorn now, so why seek out that argument. She had changed her looks as much as she could right now, and the planet they just left did not have news broadcasts because vacationers wanted to get away from the galaxy. They were fine for now, and as long as they stayed out of too much trouble this would not be a problem. He needed her help, so a little extra heat wasn’t going to change their agreement. He heard her shifting a bit, standing up and coming stand at the foot of the ladder below.

“Hey...did you call for me?” She said softly, her voice heavy with sleep. 

“No...news update about you. They are offering a half million credits for your return to Mandalore.” He didn’t put his helmet back on just yet. 

“Damn...to bad we can’t keep the little guy, could turn myself in and retire.” She laughed at her own joke, no doubt it was a much stronger delivery in her mind. “Need anything while I’m up?” She mumbled. 

“Get some sleep Andora. I’m fine.” He hadn’t used her name before. 

“Okay...I’m down here if you change your mind.” He listened as she settled into her bed again. Putting his helmet back on he calculated the hyperspace route again, needing to get to them through his last puck so they could get some time to get her back into fighting shape before going way out into the edge of the galaxy.

* * *

Chapter end


	4. Leads

The third bounty had been on an icy outpost on an otherwise temperate planet, and Andora simply stayed on the ship, a comm link for use only in absolute emergency from either of them. She was not interested in weather extremes. He had taken a few days to finish the hunt, dragging back a body with him to the ship. The man had given him no choice. He had told her to take the kid up into the cockpit via the comm link, not wanting the kid to see the bloody mess he was bringing back to the ship. The kid had been through battles but this was different. Din didn’t want the kid to see him dragging a mangled corpse. He froze the corpse to prevent the smell. Covering it with a sheet, not wanting his charges to see what he did to the bounty. 

“Mando...do you want any help cleaning?” She asked him through the comm link, and he sighed. 

“No. Just...Just keep him up there till I finish. I don’t want him to see this.” He said from down below, not bothering with the link now that he was on the ship again. “It wasn’t a clean kill.” 

“Are you hurt?” She called out, thankfully keeping the kid busy up there by showing him pictures on the data pad. 

“Bic b shi aaray.” (It's only pain.) She swore she could hear some cockiness in his voice, deciding that if he was going to write it off, she shouldn’t waste time worrying about it. “It took longer than I expected. You and the kid okay?” 

“Other than being a bit cold we were fine. I saved you a couple of slices of the fruit I bought back on the planet your Armorer was on.” He was wiping off the blood from the ship, using the cleaning agent without water since that could cause it to freeze. He worked thoroughly, but with a bit more speed since he knew that the cold air was filling the ship, her and the kid not having the same protection he did in his layers. Once he finished he closed the door. Using his wrist controls he turned the heating system up on the ship, wanting the kid to be comfortable. Andora popped her head down, seeing the blood that coated his fabric layers and frozen smears of it on his armor. The smile she had turned a bit sad. “Did he deserve it?” 

“Yes.” Din couldn’t help the anger in his voice as he thought on what he had seen. In his youth he would have enjoyed that he tortured the man, like when he and Xi’an had been an item, but now...he had taken no pleasure in it. In his youth he would have done it for himself, but now...those girls had suffered greatly, and he made sure their pain was repaid in full. Their fathers would never be able to get the justice those girls had deserved, so his knife had done it for them. He wanted to wash the blood off, to have the terrible event gone. “I’m going to finish cleaning up.” 

“Of course, take all the time you need.” Andora locked the hatch to give him privacy, picking up her flute and playing her scales, knowing she needed practice. Settled into the scales she started on the fight of the mythosaur again. Pirpak watched her fingers and the way the end of the instrument bobbed with her playing, wide eyes following the glistening metal. Din was grateful for her playing the music, letting him focus on it as he striped down his armor, cleaning the blood from his beskar, and removing the blood soaked layers of fabric. He stood there completely bare, putting all the fabrics into a laundry tub, dumping in the cleaning agent in with some water to eat at the blood. Satisfied that he would have clean clothes he went to shower, allowing himself a moment to reflect on what he did, not sorry for what he had done, but sorry it had been necessary. Taking those thoughts and emotions, he allowed the shower to wash the event away, letting it go. He had won the battle, it was time to let it go and start fresh for the next battle. Her music moved to a new song, one he hadn’t heard before, but it was uplifting in its own way. Din pulled on some fresh underclothes and a simple brown shirt and pants, his helmet back on. It would take a while for his things to be ready. Knocking on the hatch he heard her stop the music and shift to open it. A set of innocent brown eyes looked at him. 

“Uir! Uir!” Din picked up the kid, glad his helmet hid his smile at the sound of the kid calling him dad. The kid was picking up on words faster than he had expected. The vowel sounds picked up very easy, but the starting consiensenats needed more work. Andora made a point of talking to the kid all the time the last couple days they had been alone, reading all the time from her documents on the data pad when she ran out of conversation. Din had needed that little boost from the kid to help finish dispelling the dark cloud. Andora had been about to come down, but upon seeing him so undressed she had politely turned around. 

“It’s fine Andora, come down.” He had used her name twice now, and it made her feel so...warm. She came down, seeing the bin of his wash and the metal pieces laid out carefully inside his open bed bunk. “Thank you for watching him.” 

“It’s fine, I like kids.” She said evenly, looking at everything not him since he was so naked and vulnerable. 

“How come you don’t have your own?” He sat down on the floor, letting the kid climb him, the kid excited by the lack of layers between him and his father figure. 

“It’s kind of a two person thing.” 

“No one in your life?” It was unusual for what she knew of him to make this kind of small talk, but his energy had been so dark when he came in, she was fine with the chatter if it helped him from being so brooding. 

“No. Once upon a time when I was 16 I thought I found someone I could be happy with...back on Barab 1. That obviously hasn’t worked out. Some relationships since then but...well...my history tends to scare people away.” 

“You had a relationship with a Barabel?” Din was trying to understand how that could have possibly worked. He had seen a few images of Barabels, to him they were less than appealing.

“Yeah...Tokor, he was really wonderful. We hunted together a lot, spared all the time, he even brought me trophies for my ‘nest’. Being captured and sent back to Mandalore put an end to it though.” She still missed him but they had been too different for it to be more than a deep bond anyway. “Boys on Mandalore were conscripted to the Imperial military academy at age 16, so by the time I came back home...my interest in them was really rock bottom low. Dated a lot of the conscription dodgers.” She heard him chuckle a bit, the sound warming her more than the heated air. 

“Never dated any of the Stormtroopers?” He teased her. 

“Mandalorians didn’t become stormtroopers. They went on to be higher specialized forces, quite a few were Death Troopers. Even in those awful helmets our guys are great at fighting.” 

“That wasn’t an answer.” He watched her take a deep breath and sigh. The slight pout of her lips told him it was not something she wanted to say.

“My father used to say it’s not wise to talk about things you want to avoid, it’s like an invitation for it to enter your life.” Her voice was dripping with a cautionary tone. That made Din pause, thinking back on the day he had his beskar armor made. The others had mentioned strength in numbers, and the great purge. Later they had shown their full strength, only to be slaughtered. Maybe her father had a point. “He would have liked you.” That comment caught Din off guard, turning to look at her as the kid climbed up into the bed bunk to start tapping on the plates of armor like other children would slap pots and pans. Looking at her she took the tilt of his head as permission to continue. “You’re an honorable man. He said that if someone was to walk the Way, then it had to honorable. He was a big believer in Mand’alor Mereel’s supercommando codex. You can’t imagine my father’s shame in learning it was Tor Vizsla that killed Mand’alor Mereel. He worked his whole life trying to be honorable to wipe away that stain, only for Pre Vizsla to deepen the sins of our clan.” 

“I thought your father was a pacifist.” He knew the codex, he had read it as well. Keeping a very worn field guide copy of it in his personal belongings. It explained much more about her own beliefs now, Mereel had been trying to bridge the two ways of Mandalorian life too. He watched her vibrant blue hair move as she shook her head. 

“He was a Protector. He lost his leg while on a diplomatic mission as an escort for the officials to Concord Dawn when they were attacked by Death Watch. He was forced to reassignment of training security forces in the capital after that.” There was a lot of pride in that title based on the tone of her voice and the smile on her lips. “Took his time in ‘retirement lite’ as he called it to start his family.”

“He missed being out on missions.” Din concluded, watching the kid studying himself in the reflection of the beskar. Din held his tongue about Death Watch. Seems her family had lost a lot to the terrorist sect. Their honor and more personally her father’s pride as a warrior in action. It would not be a good time to argue the merits of the other sects of the clan. 

“I was his second child, so by the time I could know him, he was more focused on keeping my brother and I safe while everything was being thrown into uncertainty by the wars.” There was a thunderous crashing sound as Pirpak tried to pick up the chest plate, it too heavy and it had fallen on the floor from the bed bunk. His ears curled in and he started crying, the sound seemed to scare him. Their discussion tossed to the side as Din picked him up and tried to calm him down. He wasn’t worried about his armor, the floor was probably worse off. 

“Hey calm down now, we’ve heard worse noises than that and you never let out a peep” Din said, trying to reason with the kid to calm down, the little one burying his face in Din’s shoulder and gripping handfuls of his shirt. He picked up the chest piece and put it back, gently bouncing the kid in his other hand. Andora wanted to reach out and help, but it wasn’t her place anymore. He was home to care for his son. “Look, it’s okay, everything is okay. No one is hurt. It was just noise. Sayr cuyir olar. Nayc sto be ibic.” (Dad is here. No more of this.) It took a few moments to ease the child into calmness. Pirpak had small batch of hiccups from crying so hard. Wiping the kids eyes dry with his shirt Din sighed. “Any news on leads for him?” 

“Well my colleague is actually away on an artifact dig, so they haven’t been able to respond back. Their assistant sent me the coordinates to their dig site. Said that they would love to send me the logs but apparently the data logs are highly encrypted and need a password that only a few people have, and the assistant does not have clearance. Everyone else that has the password is either New Republic officials or Imperial.” Andora had been less than happy about the news, not because she wanted Pirpak to leave but because she didn’t like the idea of trying to hunt down her colleague for something that could be done over the net.

“Which planet?” Din was hoping this wouldn’t be too expensive. She opened the data pad, checking the message for the coordinates. “A planet called Zeffo.” As Din moved up to the cockpit she followed, trading the data pad for Pirpak, trying to control the intake of breath as his calloused hand brushed against her hand, her eyes dazed for a moment as Pirpak clung to her. Pirpak was gazing at her curiously, feeling the force flurry around their hands for a moment before she was gazing without her eyes. She pulled back as quickly as she could, her hand tingling. Andora looked away from him with her cheeks bright red. He tilted his head at her, knowing she couldn’t see his raised brow. He was confused by her reaction to the simple touch. “I...it’s..the Force...when we touched...it...I could...I...I didn’t think it would do that. It’s...it’s nothing. Just...do what you need.” Slowly Din turned back to the console and marked the planet on his star chart from it’s coordinates, it was not too far from a guild spaceport where he could unload. 

Andora felt horrible. It honestly had not been her intent to use the Force, but it was like a wild tenderal of her own curiosity had lashed out without her permission. Pirpak pulled on her blue hair gently, demanding her attention, his eyes looking up at her, asking with his look what he had felt her do. He reached to touch her, trying to mimic the power he had just seen. He kept putting his hand on her when it failed to happen. She couldn’t look at Mando right now. He had been so willing to be so vulnerable to her right now without his armor, but this was absolutely beyond what he had meant to share with her. She put Pirpak in his seat, going back down the ladder to give herself a moment. Touching his hand had been a huge mistake. His face had been shown to her clearly. She knew what he looked like. Allowing herself to sink to the floor, head on her knees as she contemplated how to approach this. Did it matter? To her no, she thought it was stupid that he had to hide his face just because he was a foundling. He was one of them, helm or not. His mask didn’t give him his training or skill. But to him it was so important. She hadn’t removed his mask, but effectively it had been taken from him by her seeing what he looked like. Andora allowed herself to slip into a meditative state, hoping that she could figure this out. Pirpak followed after her, sitting next to her, drawn out of curiosity to the feeling of the Force moving. Her emotions were turbulent, but not on the dark side. She was probing the problem for solutions. Watching her meditate Pirpak waited for her to come back. 

* * *

Senator Ordot was looking over the schematics for the armor Moff Gideon was demanding the Beskar for. It was heavy battle armor, and troops wearing it would be able to siege cities easily. The mines were operational again, but the amount of beskar was barely enough for ingots. They needed a new source of it to keep the Moff happy. Vizsla had so far not been reported anywhere, and he was starting to worry that maybe she was already beyond their reach. Surely the woman wouldn’t be so reckless as to end herself? No, it had only been a little over a two standard weeks he needed to keep hope. Half a million credits would get leads somewhere, and the galaxy was very large. 

He was alone in his chambers, still recovering from the blaster shot from the assassination. Rubbing his temples in frustration he contemplated what to do. The cities were all on high alert, extra security patrols and increased recruitment and citizen watches. 

He was going to go back to Hosnian Prime for the new budget session, feeling like it was insult to injury. The inner planets always took the largest portion of the budget, and many of the outer rim worlds had been basically left to rot with the aftermath of Imperial control. When outer rim planets even mentioned the damage still being done to them by the Remnants of the Imperial Armies fighting under different Moffs the issue was hushed up and turned towards trade routes. Mandalore was too weak as it was now to do more than bow to this Moff. 

* * *

Din set aside her data pad as he lifted off planet, still having a half tank of fuel so they could easily make it back to the guild headquarters on the space station city along the trade route before heading off to Zeffo. The planet would also work as a place for them to park and him to train up her skills. The feel of her fingers had been nice, but the way she reacted definitely was unusual. It was hours later when he heard her finally move from where she had sat down. It was the longest she had been quiet without being asleep. The kid had even been silent too, but normally the kid would come and take the metal orb to play with. Instead he was still firmly in place. He put the ship on auto, needing to go down and finish with the armor, the blood should be fully dissolved by now. 

Andora had moved to kneel as her emotions settled, slipping into a more calm meditation than her emotional turmoil. The kid was still watching her, feeling better now that she felt calmer. Din let her be as she mediated while he checked on his fabric, finding it blood free once more. He hung it up to dry along the back, not wanting to leave it up over where she normally slept in her cot. Closing the bin, he would recycle the water at the space port. With that chore done he considered taking this time to clean his weapons, wondering if maybe Andora would enjoy helping him with the task. 

“Mando…” Her voice was hesitant, almost fearful of him. That was new, he had never heard her like that. “I have to explain about earlier.” Her eyes opened, turned towards him and he could see the richness of her blue green eyes. He hadn’t noticed that before. He joined her in kneeling on the floor, his hands resting on his thighs with his legs spaced for him to rapidly rise and begin fighting, and he noticed her own position matched. Her father must have taught her this proper position, and thinking back to the Armorer’s forge she had been in this position as well. “I have done a great wrong to you. The Force has shown me something about you that you have not chosen to share with me. I cannot unlearn what I have learned, and I know of no way to equalize this imbalance. I will not tell you what was shared with me, but know it does not change my trust in you, or in my willingness to continue our agreement.” Her voice was timid, but well rehearsed, and overly wordy for his liking. 

“So your sorcery allows you to control others minds to your will and to invade them as well.” Din had noticed the strange behavior of others when she spoke with a certain cadence in her voice, the evidence piling up. She bowed her head to him in a show of admission. 

“I did not try to invade your mind. Our hands touched, and it just...happened.” He saw the pink rise in her cheeks even as she remained bowed to him. “Normally when you touch me it’s with your gloves, and I get flashes of the events you have just been in or what will possibly happen to you next. If anything at all, most of the time it’s nothing.” Her warning about the ambush no longer seemed so cryptic, but now far more invasive.

“Visions are...difficult. Sometimes they are crystal clear and fixed, able to be viewed like a mirror. Other times they are water, rushing wildly without direction and unable to be stopped. It’s a power I have the hardest time controlling, especially as I get older.” She slowly looked up at him, taking his unchanged position as permission to continue. “I wish to make this right with you Mando. I accept my fault. I am truly sorry.” Andora lowered her head further, bowing to him now.

“Have you controlled my mind?” His voice gave away nothing of how he was feeling.

“No...I couldn’t even if I wanted to. The ability to sway minds is only effective on people who have a weaker will. I will give someone a suggestion, or like the boy at the beach a command, but I can't remove freewill. It’s why the Twi’lek broke free of my hold. His desire to escape was stronger than the suggestion I gave him to act honorably.” 

“So you have learned something intimate about me, that you can’t tell me, through a lack of control of a power you have.” His tone was almost angry, and she lowered her head till she was nearly touching the floor to show him her humility. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Because...I don’t know how to feel about what I learned. You never intended to share it with me, and I understand why. It’s not something that you would feel able to share with me but know...for me…” Her voice was shaky as she took a breath, looking up at him from her prone position. “Ni narir va ceoa gar de meg gar buir cuyir, Ni ceoa gar de buir gar cuyir.” (I don't judge you by who your father was, I judge you by the father you are.) She lowered her gaze again. “Is there a way to mend this with you Mando?” He watched her stay in her humbled position, waiting on his judgement of her. Her words made him sure that she knew of his connection to Death Watch, and she must have been trying to come to terms with it. 

“Death Watch, you will hold your words about them. If you need to mention individuals I understand, but don’t paint all their warriors with the same brush. You want a Mand’alor that would unite all Mandalorians right. They are Madnalorians too.” He watched her flinch, but she nodded her head in agreement. Andora didn’t want to agree, but he was right. She couldn’t be a hypocrite. If it would earn his forgiveness then she had to accept it.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone leaving kudos, it really does help motivate me. 
> 
> To the 3 reviewers at this point in the story, thank you so much, it made me really excited and hyped to write more. I will respond to comments in the notes so I don't inflate my review numbers.
> 
> GinevraEowynUndomiel: Thank you, I actually didn't even realize he also worked on Avatar so it's just a fun little coincidence. 
> 
> mykjl: This was so wonderful to read, Thank you. I try really hard to make my characters well rounded and believable as people. In Star Wars it's easy to get tempted into writing an overly perfect character so I am trying to to give her believable flaws and motivations.
> 
> Hopes_Wings: I am so flattered you think she deserves that position, I obviously can't tell if she will or won't because that would be a spoiler for my own story. I hope you will enjoy the direction it goes.


	5. Distance

Three days. It had been 72 standard hours since he had actually said more to her than he absolutely needed to, and she was feeling a bit hurt. She had been honest with him but he was only more unsettled by her. Andora had honestly meant her apology. Yet here she was, being pushed away from someone else because she was a freak. Pirpak had helped ease the feeling, the child eager to be near her when he felt her meditate, it really all she could do right now between reading and her flute since Mando was treating her like a grenade with the pin pulled. Landing at the space port, and she was grateful for the chance to be out of the small space, and distance herself from him. She wanted to rush out of the ship, her flute strapped to her thigh, wearing simple black leggings, a red top and a grey vest over that, her blue hair braided. Andora left his knife on the ship, only taking a few credits so she would not be tempted to overspend. Finally having the chance to put distance between them was starting to weaken her control of her emotions, and she felt her anger bubbling up. Pirpak was babbling at her, but in her sour mood she couldn’t muster much energy for him. She picked him up and gently put him back in the pram. He could feel her negative emotions, and she was worried she would set a bad example for him. He was too strong to have these kinds of emotions, if he used his powers while feeling like her, he could hurt someone. 

“Sorry little one, but you need to stay with your Dad today. I’m sure he will be better company anyway.” As soon as the ship was fully docked the loading bay opened, Mando was coming down the ladder to start their unloading. She swiftly made her exit before she had to look at him, him being so unforgiving of a true mistake on her part giving her more energy to flee. Andora left the comm link as well, ignoring his voice as she swiftly walked into the crowd of the space port. He couldn’t very well grapple her here, too many bodies he would hit instead of her own. Standing a head shorter than him helped her get lost in a bundle of taller aliens. It was a full three floors of shops within the floating city space port, another floor or two probably for living quarters and the ship's own engines and other systems. The station wasn’t really big enough to escape from him for long, but she needed to just be away from the tension and hurt. She could feel his energy marching behind her, the crowd parting as his imposing silhouette was trying to beeline for her. Andora had been meditating for days now, so she could push herself a little, urging the crowd to keep rank behind her. She ducked down to be below his line of sight moving off towards the elevators, getting in before he could push through the crowd.

She let the others pick the floor, feeling better that she bought herself some time away from him. In her mind she knew that when she had to return to the ship the tension would be worse, but her wounded feelings were running the choices for right now. He could do the unload and refuel himself. He was her escort, and she had been hoping to much for a chance to live at least a little of the life she had wanted. It was too late for her to don armor, she just had to refocus on her tasks. Hide the helm, and find the next suitable family or guardian to take little Pirpak. Maybe it wasn’t even him she liked. Maybe it was the stress of escape and him being there in his shiny beskar. These were misplaced feelings, and she planned on getting rid of them with...something. She sighed as the elevator opened, walking out calmly as she was looking for stores to catch her interest. Andora found herself just walking, not finding anything that would spark a moment of forgetfulness. Taking a maintenance staircase to the next floor, Andora needing to burn off the energy she had from only having maybe 12 square meters to live in with a man determined to be as far away from her as possible. On the top level of the shopping district she found it was much quieter, fewer crowds, and as she looked she realized why. Higher end shops selling luxury items that most hardened space travelers wouldn’t need, but the more financially secure would be interested in. Since this was a fairly busy trade route to get from the outer rim to the mid rim planets for both trade and vacationing there were still groups of people in the shops. She noticed a group of humanoids that looked sun tanned, wondering if they were stopping here after coming from the ocean planet that her and Mando had stopped at, buying little things while they waited on their ship to be ready to go home. Walking towards the observation deck Andora allowed her mind to wander as she looked out at the stars, seeing larger ships tethered to the spaceport sending out runner ships.

“Did you ever visit Jedha?” Andora barely contained her yelp at the soft voice startling her out of her unfocused star gazing, body turned towards the voice, hand on her flute, tensed and ready. “Be calm child, I did not mean to interrupt your mediation.” The old man held his hands up in a show of peace, his strand of prayer beads dangling from one hand, a worn staff in the other. His wrinkled face was smiling, his back hunched a bit with his age, the monks robes a bit tattered and dirty. What little hair he still had was pale and wispy, and he had a bag slung over his shoulder with what she saw were pamphlets. “You must be the source I have been feeling on the ship for the last hour.” He lowered his hands as Andora brought hers away from the innocent looking weapon. 

“I am sorry Sir. I don’t understand what you mean.” It was a lie. But Andora wasn’t exactly feeling in the mood to expose herself more to scrutiny. The aged face smiled, but not troubled by her dishonesty. 

“Jedha, it is a moon in the system by the same name. A pilgrimage site for all who feel the pull of the Force as you do.” The monk joined her in looking out at the stars behind the floating ships. “You need not worry, with the Empire and the Inquisitors no longer in power, we are free to speak without fear of being taken away.” He handed her the pamphlet, and she took it, not looking at it, meeting his eyes in the reflection of the viewing window.

“But being connected to it can still make you a freak and alone.” She was letting herself whine, despite knowing she was too old to do so. 

“But it is in all living things. So are we not all freaks?” His tone was good humored, and she really was uncomfortable that she was a 32 year old woman still being lectured about her feelings. He took her silence as admission that she couldn’t respond to the contradiction in her statement. “The Force is once more flowing in the Galaxy, awakening within hearts everywhere, freed from dogma. You are holding onto old fears and shames about what is a great gift. Why has this shame come to you?” 

“I don’t know you Sir.” She said as politely as she could, not ready to examine the feelings he was probing her for. 

“No, but you would have walked away if you truly did not want to find answers. Mediation helps, but we are still human, and talking with another is a great way to ease pains that mediation alone cannot. Is that not why you lashed out earlier? Wanting to be understood and feeling as alone as the stars in the darkness? Looking like they make patterns and shapes, but are light years away from each other.” He motioned out at the stars with his prayer bead hand, that peaceful smile he had only came with the patience the religious attained after a lifetime of focus. 

“That’s not really a problem, with hyperspace travel we can reach them in days.” Why she felt the need to defensively lash out at his words escaped her. 

“And we have words to help our feelings travel the distance between hearts.” Andora should have expected him to offer sagely wisdom to follow up her statement. Or maybe she just wanted to discount what he said because she couldn’t take out her emotions on who caused them. “Perhaps you would better communicate through your music? A safer translator?” 

“I don’t think I am ready to talk about it.” He nodded, letting the conversation lull peacefully. He adjusted his stance, and she noticed that he seemed to be leaning on his staff. “Do you need to sit and rest Sir?” 

“No, but perhaps a walk would be nice. Come join me, I haven’t walked in company for a long time. Besides, it’ll be hard for you to avoid your problem if you stand still.” He chuckled and walked off towards nowhere in particular. Andora could just ignore the old man and continue to stand there, and he would probably be fine. With a sigh, she turned to follow after him as they walked around, the man saying nothing to her and handing out his pamphlets to people they walked by. 

“Force be with you.” They walked by and pretended to ignore him. 

“Force be with you.” Took it and tossed it in the nearest receptacle. 

“Force be with you.” The person sneered and walked briskly. 

“Force be with you.” Ignored again. 

“Force be with you.” This went on for a while as they walked, and she found herself getting more and more upset at the cruel responses he was getting. “Why does their indifference hurt you?” 

“Because they shouldn’t ignore you like that. Or at least be kinder about it if they don’t have time.” Her arms were crossed defensively across her chest, fingers tightening against her own arms. 

“Their indifference does not harm me, why would you take on a burden you haven’t been asked to?” He resumed passing out pamphlets with genuine openness and kindness, un-phased by what he was experiencing. 

“I just...indifference is why nothing gets better. When everyone is indifferent it’s like an infection, the wound gets worse.” Her mind was on Mandalore, looking at the records of what the planet had once looked like, and what it was like now. No one had cared to stop it, and now they were huddled like mice in cages, waiting for it to get better instead of taking action.

“I am a simple monk, hoping that I can find sparks like yours in the Force, and direct them towards being one with it and themselves. What wound do I have that you worry for me?” Andora had no answer to volunteer for him. 

“But them not listening to you...your calls being brushed off...doesn’t it make you feel alone?” She waved her hands at the circle around them where people parted to avoid the old man.

“Are you alone when you offer up your thoughts to the Force?” The monk smiled knowingly. “Force be with you.” An alien child taking the pamphlet despite his parents trying to pull them away, the child asking about it to his parents and the monk continuing on. “There was one light. They were curious about what the Force is, that pamphlet is less about them joining us and more about giving them something tangible to remember.”

“What if nothing happens and they never come.” Her voice was a bit distant, thinking on her family. She could hear so many ancestors, but the people she missed most...never called back from the force. 

“Then I have done my best to fulfill my duty. I will not reach everyone, maybe only a small few will ever answer my call. But for each one I reach, they will hopefully find more. The ripple of it spreading out from them to all the others they reach.” He led her back down from the top floor to the landing bay floor, her following him calmly, not as ashamed and resentful as she was before. “So what has made you angry with your gift of the Force?”

“I can’t control it sometimes, it just...it’s getting harder. It...caused problems and has scared others away from me.” He nodded as he considered her words, aware of the man that was listening to them as they walked, the man staying at a small distance away, watching them closely. 

“What gift causes you so much fear of yourself?” The monk was still passing out pamphlets as he allowed her to think. 

“I’m not afraid of myself, I’m scared of what- ” 

“Of what your gift will do. You are ashamed and therefore hide it. Hiding it makes it harder to control, but yet you also try to call on the gift when you seek to help others.” With a comforting pat on her shoulder he continued to lead both her and the man following them. “The gift is part of you, and you are afraid of what you will do to others. You are so afraid of yourself, you read others actions through the lens of that fear.” He smiled, feeling the man walking up a bit closer. 

“I try really hard, but the visions are under less control now than when I was younger.” She admitted, biting her lip. 

“Ah...visions are a power that none are truly master of. Do not be ashamed of it. Perhaps you are not losing control of it, but feel less in-control of your own future and so that makes your visions more panicked. Your mind is so fixated on what it thinks will happen, it is constantly looking for a direction.” He reached within his bag, pulling out a small clear crystal on a string.

“What do you mean? Didn’t the Jedi master vision techniques.” Andora was too focused on the extremes of time, it’s why she did not feel the man behind her. Someone constantly looking behind and ahead missed what was now. 

“Can you master the future?” He turned to her as they stopped outside a tea shop. “Do you control the past?” She shook her head, trying to understand the point he was making. The concept she did, but following it was going to be harder. “The Force is living, it does not live in the past, nor wait in the future, it is here, now.” He put the simple stone necklace into her hand, smiling as he moved to sit down at the table outside the tea shop. “I have fulfilled my duty, now time for some tea.”

“The ship is refueled.” Andora jumped again, her cheeks pink as she turned around, embarrassed at being caught off guard twice in one day. Mando was standing there, his body language relaxed and he had her large bag slung to his side. The tip of a green ear poking out. Mando dipped his head towards the monk in a respectful greeting to the unknown man. “Are you ready?” Andora nodded, taking out her credits and leaving them on the table for the monk. 

“I do not need the money.” The old man moved to push it back towards her. 

“It would make me feel better if you at least bought yourself a tea.” The old man only took half of the credits, patting her hand as Mando turned to walk away, Andora falling in step behind him, her aura far calmer now, and more introspective than the writhing angry mass she had walking in. The walk to the ship was calm. As the loading bay closed Din put the vibroblade and its holster back in her hands. His gloved hand stayed on her hand a bit longer than he needed to. “Mando?”

“Half million credits out for you, this place has a guild branch, and you walked out without protection.” He still didn’t remove his gloved hand from her hand holding the returned weapon. “Do you see anything?” His voice was even through the modulator. 

“What?” She was confused, he hadn’t spoken to her in three days and suddenly he was acting like this was okay. He brought her hand to his shoulder armor. Letting her touch the beskar. 

“Are you seeing anything?” He asked again. Not letting her pull her hands back. She blushed brightly, confused by his sudden change. She shook her head, looking away from his helm. “I have given my word to help you protect the helm, and you had given yours in helping the kid get home. You are part of my Clan’s responsibility now. I haven’t failed any mission yet. Asas gar ke'gyce alor, bu'cina ner ke'gyce.” (As your commanding officer, trust my orders.) She looked up at his visor, and he swore she looked right into his eyes. “Narir gar motir teg?” (Do you understand?) 

“Elek al’verde.” (Yes commander.) 

* * *

Zeffos was a fairly lovely planet to look at from orbit. The ship had lost the tense feeling between them after he had let her touch his armor. Andora had accepted his declared leadership of their tiny three person troop. Most of the time these last couple days were spent working with Pirpak to learn speech, but the child was also sleeping more, and what time was not spent asleep was filled with eating and just calm playtime. 

“He seems lethargic. Is that normal for kids?” Din asked to her as she sat behind him with the kid just cuddled into her arms as he played with both the mandalorian token and the pale stone she had been given by the monk. 

“For humans we go through growth spurts, but I am not sure for his kind. He doesn’t feel unhealthy or anything. So maybe he is just reaching that point. When the bone growths start he might get fussy because that part hurts, and tends to happen while they are asleep.” Andora had her hair down, letting it dry after her shower. She wasn’t wearing anything scented, which would be useful once they got to the planet surface, it would help hide her presence. “We might need to keep fresher food for him, ration bars for us is fine, but he will need more natural nutrition.” 

“You have to practice hunting don’t you.” Din was waiting for the planet to rotate so they could save on fuel and drop into the coordinates her contact was supposed to be on. He heard her little hum of agreement, the kid drifting off to sleep, clutching his favorite toy. He had considered getting a new knob so the kid could keep the one he played with. Her hand reached forward with the object and he simply twisted it back on, the kid being set down to sleep and the lid closed so the light wouldn’t bother him. “How trustworthy is your colleague?” 

“She’s a well respected researcher. Lived on Coruscant since before the Clone Wars.” She sat watching the planet ahead of them. 

“What about her funding? Would your bounty be enough to turn her on you?” He was getting ready for their opening to land. 

“I don’t know, it’s a very…” Din could hear her biting her lip as she thought it over. “Anyone in the field could turn on me for that amount of money, we are lucky to get tens of thousands of credits for big projects. But...most of us go into the field for the love of our work, so I have faith in her to at least give us a sporting chance.” 

“Have you seen this going well?” He looked back at her, his visor staring at her, and she felt herself smile at his attempt to value her skill. 

“I haven’t seen anything going wrong.” She put as much confidence into her voice as possible. Din turned back to the controls, leading them through the atmosphere smoothly as he looked for a clearing he felt could make a good encampment. Andora was excited by the beautiful temperate planet, the trees rustling with wind and small creatures scattering everywhere into the tall grass. The impressive shadow of a towering ancient city was visible a few clicks away. Those must be the ruins that Brezen Syille was running her excavation. The Cerean woman was much older than Andora, but even while using a cane to walk she was still active in the field. “Do you want me to go over and talk with her while you set up a security perimeter?” 

“No, you watch the kid while I do it.” As the engines shut down he grabbed his rifle, and exited the ship, her watching him from the cockpit for a few moments before leading the pram down the ladder to begin looking out at the terrain. She was excited about being able to cook on a campfire, and was looking at the surrounding environment to see what she could use to craft some weapons. Mando was scanning the area as he set up proximity wires at 50 meters out around the ship, his beskar shining brightly under the sunlight. The grass swaying with the wind, and she swore she could hear voices. She wouldn’t tell him, the voices were like echoes of the past, and brought her some comfort. Andora couldn’t abide by just standing and watching, moving to a spot near the side landing door he had opened and clearing away some grass to start a fire pit. A shovel would be more helpful but she did not want to go digging through supplies he hadn’t shown her yet. She ripped the grass up by the roots, putting it in a neat pile as she cleared the spot. With that task finished she walked within the established perimeter where she could still see her charge and picked up rocks to line the pit with. Pirpak was still sleeping in his pram, the egg like object floating inside the safety of the ship. She was wearing the black pants and the red top again, the grey vest left inside. Normally she would be worried about wearing the bright color, but with his beskar throwing light everywhere her red was less of an issue. This time she could hear his footsteps approaching her as he brought some firewood to stack at the base. They needed more rocks to finish the pit but as he entered the ship and opened up a cargo crate she took it as permission to go. He had dug out the pit and put the wood in a proper formation when she had finally found enough stones. “Your father taught you how to camp?” 

“He took us on a couple trips to Concord Dawn so he could teach us how. I had to stay at camp while him and my brother would go off. When I was little I didn’t understand...but I get that now he was trying to show my brother how to be Mandalorian. He used to promise me that one day it would be my turn...but when my brother marched...our trips stopped.” Andora was taking the uprooted grass she had, considering how best she could use it. Using some very willowy twigs she had also collected she began to tie the twigs together, a simple task she knew well. It would not be very strong armor, but it would camouflage her better for hunting to smell like the underbrush. 

“Why did he never teach you how to fly?” Her father seemed like a man who would not have left such a huge blind spot in even basic skill training. She might not have been a great pilot but it was a skill all should know. 

“He did…” Her fingers were twisting knots in the grass as the twigs were starting to be arranged into a more recognizable row. “The Imperials took it.” His visor snapped up to look at her, seeing her get up and go collect more of the twigs for what looked like the start of a basic ghillie suit. Din waited for her to return, as he looked back at the kid he wondered. How could imperials have taken something like that from her. With a large bundle in her arms she sat down once more to her work, her fingers working quickly and diligently. “Thank you.” Her voice came across with the soft winds, and her hair was being picked up and played with by the breeze. Din nodded, letting the topic drop for now. 

“What weapons do you need to go hunting?” That would be what the ghillie suit was for he assumed, and he would like to get an assessment of her abilities. Her eyes looked up at him in surprise. 

“You’re okay sharing them?” She had understood the knife, but she had not expected him to let her just borrow from his weapons cache. 

“I want to eat sometime this solar cycle.” She could feel the humor in his voice, and she smirked, ready to accept the challenge. Braiding her hair she tucked it into a bun, working faster to finish the cover she would need.

“I would feel most comfortable with a bow caster.” She had to start pulling up more grass, starting from the rim of the fire pit to avoid pulling more from areas she didn’t need to.

“Then tomorrow you have to pick something else.” He said matter of factly. 

“Elek Al’verde.” (Yes Commander.) There was playfulness in her voice, not disrespect. “Do you have a face mask I can use? I won’t have time to make a full suit and hunt before nightfall.” He had to think about it, walking back into the ship and digging through an old clothing box he kept mostly for cleaning rags. He found something she could use. Taking out his bow caster he brought both items out for her, setting them down at her side. Holding it up she shrugged, it would have to work. “You must have been pretty young when you started.” 

“My sponsor found me at a young age.” It was the first time he had shared something about himself. She smiled to herself, happy to see that her work would hold up fairly well. She went onto the ship and changed into a green top and started to strap the impromptu ghillie suit to her back, pulling on the face mask he gave her. It was fairly old and threadbare, but it hid her hair, and only showed him her eyes. 

“Super Commando?”

“Yes.” Seemed like that was the end of his sharing for the day. She picked up the bow caster, checking that it was functional and that she could use the sight. It was a bit heavier than she would use, but she would make due with it. He tossed her the com link, and she realized she did not have a spot to put it, simply tucking it away in the bindings of her breasts through the neckline of her shirt. The pram followed him as he stood up and locked down the ship, his rifle slung casually over his shoulder. “Well, let’s see what you can do.” 

* * *

Her ghillie suit was working fairly well for being made in so little time, and he was impressed with her patience while hunting. Her attitude towards the climb up here needed work, but once she had settled into her perch she had focused, the trio quiet as the two adults were laying on the ground flat on their bellies, his cloak providing the cover needed to keep his beskar from shining and distracting her prey, while her suit helped her blend in while flatted. He could see up into the wall of nests, watching her watching the birds on the cliff above them. He didn’t say anything as he watched her, Andora had crawl on her belly from the tree line and having followed after her at a slower pace. He wasn’t sure what was taking her so long. These were easy targets. Suddenly the calm silence was ended by the bolt from her weapon, a bird tumbling to the ground a few yards from them, the birds squawking angrily. Their massive wings were flapping as some of the pairs in the nests circled around the body, trying to understand what happened. The birds were fairly large, easily 3 kilos and the wing beats created a breeze that he could feel through his cloak. Eventually the birds stopped circling and returned to their nests, her quickly grabbing the bird and starting to crawl away with her prize. He followed, standing once they returned to the treeline. The bird has a single shot through its skull, and he noticed the bird looked a bit older than the prettier plumaged birds on the cliff. 

“It’s a poor hunt. The target is weak and old.” He was not impressed. 

“I was trying to pick the one without a mate. The others had chicks in the nests, this one didn’t. Killing it will provide us with food and not leave another dying or heartbroken.” She sounded a bit saddened by his response.

“It wasn’t a challenge.” He corrected her. 

“But we will have something to eat.” The positive tone of her voice did not lessen his disappointment.

“You are supposed to prove you are going to be able to hunt.” He made her carry the bird back. 

“Tomorrow I will hunt something bigger Mando. I was fairly proud of it since it’s been over a decade.” Andora was determined to prove to him she was capable. She hadn’t gotten her sigil by accident.

“I pick your target tomorrow after we meet with your contact.” 

* * *

Chapter end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my reviewers! 
> 
> DreadWolf: Thank you, it makes me happy that you are cheering for her, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. 
> 
> Michellehearts6: I am so touched that you feel that way about the story, and I love writing in the little parenting moments between him and the kid, because that is part of what makes me excited about him as a character. 
> 
> ncstalgia: I hope that it's a good way for Mando to hit. Its hard to write effectively for his character when we don't know much about him, but I hope I am keeping his general vibe.


	6. The World in a Word.

Andora was finishing her ghillie suit for the harder hunt he would send her on as the bird meat roasted and the bones were simmering in water to make a broth. Pirpak walked around within the security lines, his little waddling steps barely crunching the grass beneath his feet. The sun was still at a comfortable height in the sky, but it was lowering towards the treeline. The grass was almost taller than him, and his green skin blended in, Din keeping his sensors on to keep track of the child to prevent himself from rushing over and hovering protectively. The child needed to have some sense of freedom, but Din was tensed and ready to charge over at the slightest hint of an issue. 

Andora was humming again, the sound being carried off by the wind as her mind drifted off in a meditative state while her fingers twisted and tied the grass and twigs together. She was also using some more durable sticks for more structure underneath. The fire was crackling pleasantly between them, but her face was getting warm, her hand reaching up and realizing she had not removed the borrowed mask. She took it off, leaving it on top of the bow caster still at her side. The vibroblade he had given her was strapped to her thigh now, it a much easier place to access and since they were out in the field it was acceptable to have a weapon on display. 

The meat was dripping fat into the fire, the smell delicious as it was picked up by the breeze. Pirpak rushing back over to Din as quickly as his tiny legs could, the child having enough of his freedom and wanting the safety of his father. He crawled into Din’s lap, using the edges of the armor like grip points and excitedly trying to climb all the way up to sit on the helm, but it was so smooth so he settled for being perched on the shoulder plate. Din finally relaxed with the kid back in his reach, letting the little guy climb, his added weight barely a hindrance compared to the parental stress of letting the kid be out of easy reach. Din pulled the broth off the fire to let it cool for Pirpak. His gloves resistant to the heat of the fire, and he moved the skewers of meat further from the fire so Andora would not burn herself. Andora quickly disappeared into the ship, washing her own hands before she came and wiped Pirpak’s chubby digits with a damp cloth. 

“I’ll feed him if you want to go eat.” Din was reluctant to let the child go but if he was hungry and making poor choices it would be more dangerous. Standing Din took a few of the skewers with him inside, going up to the cockpit so he could keep watch while removing his helm. The cargo crate that Mando had pulled the cooking set from was going to work as a seat, her putting Pirpak on her lap. She shredded some of the bird meat, taking a bite to make sure it was cooked before helping him take chunks of it into his large mouth, being careful to avoid being bitten by his sharp little fangs. He was less aggressive to feed than Barabel hatchlings so she was unphased by the graze of sharp teeth. When he started to look for something to drink she brought the broth up to his lips, the child drinking it down and taking the bone to chew on. The sucking sound of him taking the nutrient rich marrow from the bone was the only thing she could hear, her senses extended since she was watching the child now. Mando was back soon, tossing his finished skewers into the fire. “Was that enough for you? I won’t be able to eat the remaining skewers.” 

“Take what you can, I will eat more after you turn down for the night.” He took over her position, taking his glove off to feed the bird meat to the child while she picked up a skewer for herself, nibbling on it as she looked up at the sky. She left him another skewer, laying on the landing ramp as she watched the clouds drift with the constant winds, the blue darkening as it crawled towards nightfall. “Me and the kid, we are clan Mudhorn. It’s just the two of us.” Andora looked over to him, her eyes looking more blue under the current lighting. He hadn't really noticed the color before. She had green eyes with hints of blue. “You have shared a lot about you and your clan.” 

“May I ask why the Mudhorn?” She was hopeful, excited by him sharing even this much with her. It felt nice to know he returned her trust. 

“The kid and I...he used his magic to stop the beast before it crushed me, and I killed it. It destroyed my durasteel armor in the fight.” The kid was fussing over being given more food, and Din let him down, the kid walking around the campfire now, the forest getting darker and he was staying close to safety. 

“He levitated a mudhorn?” She sounded amazed, staring at the little guy who seemed so defenseless. The floating ball seemed like nothing now. “What else has he done?” Din snapped the stick of the skewer and tossed it to join the others in the fire, contemplating how much to tell her about the kid. She had the same magic, she would better understand what the child was doing.

“I don’t know what it is called but…” They spent the evening with him explaining what he had noticed about the child’s powers, Pirpak aware he was being talked about, but he was not sure what was being said. She tried to explain the powers as best she understood them, her knowledge limited by her lack of any formal training, it was mostly based on the names she had found in records and her own experiences. Eventually Pirpak felt drowsy, cooing happily as he was picked up by Din and tucked in for the night. Din watched as Andora finished the ghillie suit as best she could with the natural supplies. Setting it under the ship for safekeeping before pulling out her flute to practice. He leaned against the ramp of the ship, listening to the songs she played. He let himself focus on the sounds, finding the music did make his emotions move with it. They were safe for now, so he let himself relax. 

* * *

Andora whined as she turned away from the voice and clutched her blankets closer, it hadn’t been enough sleep for her liking. She was being shaken awake, her hand reaching out to hit the person trying to wake her. Her wrist was firmly gripped and the voice was more firm, tugging her arm up and out of her warm cot. 

“No…” Her voice was begging for more of the pleasure of sleep.

“Jaha laam.” (Wake up.) There was a serious tone to Mando’s voice, that startling her awake, sitting up as she started reaching out to process what was going on. “I found your hunt target.” She stood up, in only a long night shirt and socks, not fully grasping the situation. He ignored her undressed state, leading her up the ladder to the cockpit gently but with a sense of urgency. He pointed out the window to the large beast that was prowling their campsite under the moonlight. “It tripped the security sensor.” The creature had 3 horns, and seemed to be drawn to the extinguished campfire pit, the two of them listening as the beast knocked over the cargo crate. She stared out in the darkness at the beast. 

“Okay. I’ll get some more sleep and give it a chance to leave so I can track it down.” He didn’t release her wrist, and she suddenly realized he was not wearing his gloves or his armor, again in just simple shirt and pants. He must have woken up and placed his helmet when the security wire was tripped. “Mando?”

“You don’t seem worried.” His voice through the modulator cracked a bit with his own tiredness. 

“Durgolosk are bigger and meaner. Besides, I’m too tired to be scared.” She said good naturedly, making her way back down the ladder. He slowly let go of her wrist, enjoying the lingering heat of her skin. She was shivering as she curled up in her cot again, trying to recapture the peacefulness of her dreams as he padded back to his own bunk to sleep. He was up earlier than her and the kid a few hours later, letting her sleep longer as he scanned the area for signs of life. Her selected prey was gone from their camp, and nothing else was in the area. She had given him a name of her contact, so he used his time to search his own resources for information on the Cerean woman, chewing his ration bar breakfast in his privacy. All her major accomplishments in her field seemed to have taken place either before the Empire or after it’s fall. Curious he searched for Andora’s work as well. It also only seemed that her major projects were dated post Empire. As he kept searching names that were connected to historical research projects he realized that nothing of any major value was done during the Empire era, but many researchers went missing. Understanding what he did now about Andora’s ability to sense the past around her, and remembering her emotional reception to the deaths of his tribe he did not want her to be unprepared. There had been a mission to this planet before the Empire, and the entire colony of locals, travelers, and archaeologists just suddenly were listed as dead or missing after the Empire took control. The colony had been in the same coordinates as Syille’s expedition. He waited for her to wake up, increasing the shielding of his helms wiring since he noticed the winds were causing interference the day before.

“Mando, am I hunting first or are we going to get the list?” She was dressed in the same clothes from yesterday's hunt, seeing the grass and dirt stains from where she had crawled to her spot. 

“List first. It left a sizable trail.” 

* * *

“Dr. Syille, we have made progress on identifying more of the bodies. We have them tagged and ready to be taken home when the Republic ships come for our restock in a week.” The monotone voice of a tall Kaminoan male filled the tent, the teams of researchers there all quietly and somberly packing the tagged bodies into coffins. His head fins nearly grazed the top of the tent the team was working in, keeping them safe from the sun and keeping their equipment safe from the magnetic wind. The rigid tent had shielding to provide this effect, which was why Dr. Syille was waiting in the middle lock of the tent, to make sure that the tent was closed behind and able to filter out the electromagnetic interference.

“Did you find her yet Dr. Saroo?” Dr. Syille asked as she looked over the anthropology team working with the deceased, hoping to find a skull she recognized. The Kaminoan shook his pale head, his large eyes devoid of any emotional response to the female Cerean’s question. Dr. Vo Saroo was a leading expert in identification of remains, his kinds cloning mastery also gave them an advantage in being able to extract DNA from even highly degraded sources. 

“Not yet. But of the 2,681 remains at the start we have made considerable progress towards identifying half of them. It may be a few more months before this grave has been emptied. Then we have the grave sites to the southern edge to exhume.” The older woman sighed, gripping her cane a bit firmer as she took a steadying breath, trying to keep her two hearts beating calmly. “Has your team made any inroads to the ruins?” 

“Slowly. We are piecing together what we can from the broken pottery and the shattered stone monuments, but they were ruthless in their destruction.” Her own team of archaeologists were working in their own tent trying to sort rubble from soil. 

“This is Gate to Dr. Syille. Repeat, Gate to Dr. Syille.” 

“Dr. Syille, what is it Gate?” She was tired, and not in the mood for another set back. 

“Two people came from the forest, asking to talk to you. They are refusing to identify themselves till you come.” The voice came over the comm link.

“Locals?” 

“One is a Mandalorian.” Everyone in the tent tensed up except Dr. Saroo. “The other is a Human woman.” Dr. Syille was leaving the tent as quickly as she could while following procedure. 

“Hold them there. I’ll be over to the gate in a moment.” As she exited the tent she was thinking about who this might be at the gate. She sat in the small transport bed, the little droid rolling towards the gate. As she approached she could see the shining beskar metal armor, the breeze picking up the cloak of the warrior and the rifle slung in such a relaxed way over their shoulder was truly an impressive site. She did not recognize the woman at the gate with the warrior. Arriving at the gate Dr. Syille stayed sitting as she looked the people over through the gate, too tired to stand and be threatened. “Why are you here?” The woman with the blue hair came up first, a friendly smile on her face despite the weapon strapped to her thigh. 

“Dr. Syille, it's so nice to see you in person again.” Looking at the woman’s smile and the cadence of her voice the Cerean felt the tension leave her. “Sorry for dropping in unannounced, apparently communications is spotty out here. I was hoping you could help me with a new project I am working on.”

“Changing your hair color again Ms. Vizsla. How will your ever earn your doctoral degree if you insist on being so unprofessional?” The older woman chuckled good naturedly at the younger woman.

“This looks like a huge project, it’s exciting to think about what you are going to learn here. Jedi Temple?” Andora brushed past the color of her hair, she knew that she was never going to get the doctorate because of her record. Even though the Republic had sealed many records for people imprisoned by the Empire for political reasons, her record had not been expunged. 

“No, but the original Zeffo inhabitants did have a strong connection to the Force. Whatever they knew here the Empire made sure to steal it.” She waved the gate guards to stand down, giving the pair of Mandalorians permission to enter the camp. “Is this armor accurate? It seems a bit different from the suits you were working on restoring for your heritage project. Oh, forgive my manners, Dr. Brezen Syille. Archaeologist of Religious sites for the Museum of Coruscant. You are?” The woman reached out to shake the warrior’s hand, not feeling up to standing. “Forgive me, the magnetic winds make it harder for me to stand with my cybernetic knee.” 

“I’m an associate of Andora’s.” The lack of information made the woman raise an eyebrow, looking to Andora for more details. 

“Armor is banned still.” Andora wasn’t lying, if the woman came to the wrong conclusion it was not a direct lie. Brezen nodded and gave him a smile. 

“Well then, I won’t get him in trouble by asking for more. The armor looks wonderful. Real beskar?” The droid started to head back for her own tent, Andora and the unnamed man walking along side her.

“Yes, it is ma’am.” Mando may have looked relaxed, but his hand was at his hip, ready to reach for his blaster. 

“When I saw you at the gate I was worried you were here to drag someone off. But if you are with Andora I assume this is for research, and possibly related to why you came all the way out here instead of just getting the information from my assistant.” 

“Well, I was hoping you would copy me a list of the Jedi Temple registries. I am trying to track down family that might only be listed on their documents.” 

“Clan Vizsla only had one inductee.” Brezen said dismissively. 

“It’s for me.” Mando spoke up. The older woman staring between them more before a small smirk formed on her lips. 

“I can’t give that out the list just because I am asked. Even if an especially handsome man is asking.” She chuckled, Andora feeling a bit embarrassed that the older woman said such a flirty thing. 

“Dr. Syille...please, I wouldn’t have come all the way from Mandalore if it wasn’t important. If a copy is too much to ask, then could we at least read through the list?” Andora kept her friendly tone, hoping to keep this casual.

“Those lists are highly secured Ms. Vizsla, you weren’t even allowed to look at it the last time we worked together. Now you are asking for me to let two unauthorized people just read it over and do who knows what with it.” The older woman’s tone was a bit more firm this time. The woman opened her mouth about to say something else before bringing her hand to her chin to reconsider. “Are you willing to work for a chance to look at the list?” She was looking into the reflective visor now, her question was directed at him. 

“For a chance, no.” He was polite in his refusal, but he would not be taken advantage of. 

“If you tell me your name I can search the records in exchange for your work.” Brezen bent first in the negotiations. 

“I need to look at the list.” Mando pressed firmly. “I don’t know the name I am looking for.” He gave her a little, but not enough to change the terms. 

“Mandalorians are supposed to have a knack for finding. Do you have this skill too?” Brezen spoke, gripping her cane reflexively. 

“Depends on what you want me to find.” His modulated voice was neutral. 

“I need you to find someone.” There was a crackle in her voice, and his hand moved from his hip to rest on the lid of the bag he was carrying Pirpak in.

“I can’t find the dead.” He answered back with more softness, a slight bow of his head. He had done his research, Dr. Syille's daughter had been a researcher here before the project went silent. “But Andora might be able to.” They arrived at the tent, the older woman looking up at the ruins and then over to the large white tent on the other side. Andora didn’t speak up, mulling over the fact she was going to have to be literally knee deep in a mass grave. It was going to be a horrible day.

“I just want to take her home.” The Cerean woman looked at the pair, her aged face melancholy.

“I need the list.” He wasn’t going to settle for just reading. His son was depending on him, he was taking a copy of the list.

“Then you best get to work.” Brezen sighed, accepting the terms.

* * *

“Guess you really aren’t afraid of my visions anymore.” Andora grumbled as she was sitting down staring at the edge of the pit, this her tenth attempt to approach the task. She was not proud but the first attempt she had broken down crying. He had dragged her away and forced her to calm down. The second attempt she had still cried, but she wasn’t sobbing. It had been a progression of her needing to get up and leave to calm down, unable to see past the screams and death of innocent people to focus on the individuals. Pirpak was also not faring so well around the mass grave either. He wasn’t crying like she was, but he was shaking in fear in the bag. He was having a hard time telling what was an echo and what was now. “Maybe it will be better if you and the kid go back. I have the comm link so...if I make progress or need to come back I will let you know.” 

“I’ll hunt today.” She nodded at his statement, grateful that he would adjust her burden for the day. He turned to walk out of the camp, the kid getting calmer the further away they went from the grave. Once the pair left the gate he opened the flap on the bag, deciding to go back to the cliffs from yesterday to hunt for dinner. 

Pirpak was excited to be carried in a bag slung across his Dad’s chest, the flap open so he could look at the world around them, his eyes wide with excitement and his ears twitching as the wind rushed by, whispers only he and the singing woman could hear. His little hands were gripping the edge of the bag as his father walked somewhere. Giggling he reached out, trying to grab the bug that was close, wondering if it tasted good. He wanted to go play. But Dad needed to do something. He would play when they weren’t walking so fast. Dad swatted his buggy prey away, a chirp of disappointment escaping him as he looked up. The shiny helmet and the reflection of himself in the metal easily distracted him, and he turned to start tapping at the chest plate that was protecting his Dad’s heart. He looked into the visor and focused his energy onto the new task the woman had been helping with. “Sayr!” (Dad) The walking stopped, and he felt a mix of emotions from behind the metal, it was happy. He liked when his dad felt like that. “Sayr!” He found himself being picked up out of the bag, being held closer to the masked face, putting his hands on the visor, leaving smudges on the shiny metal. “Sayr.” Dad was saying a lot more words between them now, he recognized the sounds but it was too fast for him to really understand. Based off the way his Dad felt and the tone of his voice it was all praise and happy and so he began chanting the word, being rewarded with a soft squeeze from the stoic masked man and being placed against the helmet, whispered words of affection from the man, but he was excited to get more praise by learning more words. 

Din was holding the child to his helm as gently as he could, focused on the sound of his son calling him dad and he was tempted to just call her back to the ship and forget the task of taking the child to another family. The soft clack of the kid’s claws on his helm made him wish he could take it off, let the child see his face and the smile that the kid always brought out of him. But feeling the child’s small body fit in his hands, he was worried that keeping him was the selfish choice. If he tried to raise the child to be a Mandalorian, and the child failed the training it could kill the kid. The idea of failing the kid, of giving the child false hopes of being a warrior only to lose him like that. No. The child would be safest with his own people.

* * *

The Death Troopers were standing at attention as the ship prepared to receive the Moff. The star destroyer was a flurry of activity as the troops were all trying to be in position. 

“Hey...you deleted the data logs from that comm link interception back on Navarro right?” Asked one of the Death Troopers to their squadron leader. He snapped a glare at the other trooper, giving a quick nod before kicking him back to attention. 

“Ne'johaa.” (Shut up.) The tie fighter landed in the hanger, the Death Troopers waiting till the exhaust released before coming to stand at the ramp. Moff Gideon was looking more displeased than usual. He started walking, the troopers marching in formation around him to escort him to the bridge. The crew on the bridge was working at their station, most of them avoiding looking at the Moff for fear he would take his anger out on them. 

“Commander Brag Luast.” The Death troop leader walked over and turned at attention to face the Moff. “Senator Ordot is taking too long to find Vizsla. I want that beskar, and she is standing in my way. Send a patrol to Concord Dawn, I want any documents related to Grand Admiral Thrawn’s plans to take over Mandalore brought to me. Send another team to bring me any information we could use to help flush her out of hiding. It was bad enough when we lost the asset to that bounty hunter, I will not be denied by a worthless historian.” The Moff’s gloved hand tightened into a fist, taking a deep breath to redirect his anger. The Darksaber clipped to the Moff’s belt. “I expect results Commander.” Gideon watched the Death trooper salute before walking out of the bridge, the door closing behind him. 

* * *

Chapter end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a review, It really does help motivate me and help me know if I am skidding off track.


	7. Whisper

The stars were shining.

The kid was sleeping. 

The food was cold. 

“Vizsla, do you copy?” Din cursed low under his breath. This was too long. She hadn’t contacted him since he left. Andora had told him she would be fine, but now it was nightfall and she was still there. He couldn’t leave the kid, but the more he thought about Andora just staring into a pit of dead bodies after having to drag her away the first time in tears. Andora was fulfilling her end of the arrangement to help him find where his son’s people might be. He had to keep his to be her bodyguard, and as her commanding officer, he needed to bring her back. Taking a deep breath he stood to pace the ramp of his ship, the kid safely tucked in his bunk for the night. If he locked the ship down he could go get her. 

“Andora, do you copy?” Still nothing but radio static. The winds had picked up after sunset. His layers should be thick enough, but he still felt chilled. He locked the ship down, gently moving the kid into the pram, securing the lid to keep him safe. Marching off back towards the camp he used the night vision setting, his blaster drawn as he walked through in case he was surprised by a nocturnal predator. The pram was tethered to less than two feet from his body as he moved quickly. As he approached the camp he saw the lights of the sleeping tents on one end of the base, away from the graves and then the singular light on the other side closest to the ruins. He easily ducked past the gate and the guards this time, approaching the lone light to see Dr. Syille sitting on the droid operated transport, a thick cloak wrapped around her. He let her hear his footsteps so as not to startle the older woman unnecessarily. “Where is she?” 

“She just...I couldn’t stop her. She walked in after getting into an argument with Dr. Saroo. The temple guardians activated when she passed the sanctum threshold, it’s been...been hours. I should have kept them apart.” She sounded remorseful. 

“What are the guardians?” He was taking stock of his supplies mentally as he looked at the dark ruins, trying to pick out where to go. 

“They are ancient precursors to droids, designed to keep the temples safe from being raided.” He was not excited about this option but he couldn’t take the kid for this. "They were all off before she walked in."

“Take the kid with you to your tent. I’m going in after her, I’ll pick him up afterwards.” Dr. Syille looked to the pram and the tether control he handed her. 

“So that beskar’s not for research?” She said softly, a smile pulling at her lips even as her eyes didn’t show any mirth. As she looked at the pram she gripped the tether and put her hand softly on it. 

“If he wakes up don’t let him wander off. He’s good at finding trouble.” He turned and started to walk down the cobblestone path towards the grand archway overgrown with vines and other plant life. He heard the older woman moving away with his son as he went after his other charge. With blasters drawn he pulled his cloak around his body to diminish his armors reflective nature. Something felt really off as he passed through the archway, like a weight had settled on him. He didn’t see any guards, and as he tried to get his scanners to search for her signature he was getting error readings and his night vision shut off. Looks like he was going in without scans active. He had to kneel down to the ground, turning on his light and looking for signs of her footsteps. The only tracks he found were a single line of footprints leading off deeper into the building. He kept his weapon drawn and his senses peeled, listening for either her or the guardians. 

Now by himself the wind sounded much more like sinister whispering. The dark shadows cast by the pillars and the illuminated faces of toppled monuments by moonlight. He was not sure why they were scared of these guardians if they had failed to protect this site from the Empire. Heavy metal footsteps were approaching his position and he moved up against the pillar, crouching down and his blaster gripped tighter. The guardian was easily 3 meters tall, its metal body moved stiffly and there were some chunks of rubble and plant life inside of it. It was carrying a long staffed mace, its head an elegant t-shape, with the reflective glass in its eye sockets. Din pressed against the pillar, getting ready to make a move if the guardian saw him. It passed by him, but he waited till he couldn’t hear the footsteps before resuming his hunt. 

“Mando.” He whipped around, thinking he had heard her behind him but there was no one there. The voice seemed to come from the shadow behind him, but he had just passed through. Under his helm his eyes narrowed, trying to see if he could see what had made the sound. Nothing moved. Once more he turned, trying to trace her steps under the footsteps of the guardian that had passed. This place was playing tricks on him. He walked the full length of the hallway, the next archway opening into a large central hall. Another guardian was pacing the center of the room, pacing in and out of starlight, and he saw stormtrooper armor and the bones littering the room, plasma blasts staining the walls, and the wall on the end of the room was missing a large section of where it had been blown up. Okay, guess the guardians were a bit more effective than he had originally thought. Andora’s footsteps were leading him around the edge of the room towards the open wall. He followed her path, careful to avoid the mechanical gaze. Slipping out of the room he was in an open courtyard, the winds whispering to him, and he swore he saw a shadow move, his other hand tossing the vibroblade into the shade, it clattering on the stone. Where the shade had been it was now a normal shadow. “Mando…” This time it was taunting him, but he just walked over to collect the blade. Din was not going to let this place get to him. Crossing the open space in pursuit of her footsteps he found that there was a pile of rubble where the ruins had collapsed, blocking off the entrance that would have led to what seems to be the central heart of the ruins. 

The vines on the side of this building wall were disturbed, and he figured she must have climbed here to get around the rubble. He could spend time climbing up by hand but instead he turned on his jetpack, encouraging it to take him to the only ledge he could see. It was slower than it should have been, but he hadn’t really set aside time to practice with it. As he landed on the ledge he turned it off, proud that it had been a straight ascent and even speed. The ledge he was perched on was overlooking a main sanctum room, the alter in the back of the room might have once been beautiful to look at, but the grand statue that had been there was now laying shattered on the floor, the husks of defeated guardians crushed under the statue along with more troopers. Looking down he saw the small ledge below that was the only direction she could have gone. 

“DIN.” It was an angry shout of his name by the wind, inside his helmet. He turned to the side and fired a blaster shot, his heart beating a little too hard. The guardians in the room creaked and groaned as they tried to respond to the threat but they went dormant again after a few moments. He forced himself to calm down, taking note of the room again. There was movement down behind the altar base, Andora’s head popping up in the moonlight to look over at his location. She was relieved to see him, her waving her hand to show him to follow the ledge along the wall to reach her. He shook his head, using his jetpack to avoid being exposed by crawling on the wall for so long. Landing next to her he checked her over, seeing the haggard look on her face. There were some tethered boxes next to her, the boxes levitating, and he could see her hands were covered in dirt, the ground around them dug up. 

“Mando...thank goodness. I was worried you weren’t coming.” She looked like she was a bit off kilter, almost like she was a bit too tired to think straight. 

“You didn’t respond to any communication calls. It’s been over 10 hours.” His tone was frustrated, but her face looked puzzled. 

“It’s only been a few hours. The sun just set.” She reached into the holster of the blade and pulled the comm link from it. “You didn’t respond back when I called you to update you on my progress.” Something was wrong here. She honestly believed what she was saying, but he knew this was wrong. “I need help getting the bodies back out. I can’t get back up there on my own. I was calling you for backup.” He looked into the boxes, finding skeletal remains in each one. Her odd behavior and genuine belief that she had been here for only a few hours, the disoriented state, his own strange experiences with the wind voices and his equipment not working.

“Andora...are you hearing voices in here?” He handed her his water canteen, letting her drink and seeing that the dirt was sticking to her hands from blood. She must have been digging so hard she broke through her flesh. There was a lot of death here, a lot of misery and sadness, and while he was not one to believe in the folklore of ghosts and spirits, he knew that they needed to leave now. 

“Thish, Dr. Brezen’s daughter...the troopers marched her and the other leaders here to dig up the artifact and then shot them. It's ...like a memory that I kept watching happen over and over again. But it stopped now.” She drank greedily from his canteen, not seeming to recognize the pain she should have in her hands. 

“Dr. Syille said you got into a fight with Dr. Saroo.” He didn’t know who that was, but she was starting to come out of whatever altered state she was in, so he needed to keep her talking. Din took the tether from her, attaching it to himself since he wasn’t sure she was going to be able to go on her own. He tried to help her stand, but her legs shook under her weight, looking like she hadn’t moved from the digging position in hours.

“He was being a bastard. Was saying that it was the Mandalorian’s fault for the Empire. I just took the coffins I needed and left. There’s no point arguing with him, filthy cloner.” He had to help keep her steady as he looked for another way out. While the guardians were pinned under the statue rubble he was not going to try and take her past them. Their best option was out the way they came. He scooped her up, trying to adjust her weight to get them back up to the ledge. “That wasn’t nice of me, I shouldn’t say stuff like that. I’m not a human supremacist. He just...it’s not true.” She was starting to pass out, and while it was far less graceful he was able to get them up on the ledge, having to pause to let the coffins catch up with them. Going down was much faster than he wanted, his knees and ankles protesting at the hard landing. “I failed…” She seemed to be rambling now, her body going limp and he was suddenly reminded of the kid when he had used his magic. The kid slept afterwards too. 

“Why?” 

“I’m supposed to be helping but instead I left you with all the work.” 

“You did your part.” He was looking through the ruins, wondering if maybe he could just fly out completely, but without the use of his scanners he couldn’t tell exactly how far he was from a safe landing spot, and if he went too fast the coffins might lose the tether. Plus with her going limp he couldn’t use his weapons.He knelt down, putting his cloak over his still warm jet pack. “You have to get on my back. I can’t use my weapons like this.” Din was thankful she complied, her arms around his neck and her legs squeezing around his hips, but not crossing to the point she would impede his walk. His rifle was in his hands now, setting it to the highest level since they would not be sneaking past the guardians like this. Approaching the opening in the wall he lined up his shot. Taking his time to breath and wait for the machine to pace through the moonlight since his scanners were still offline. He fired the shot, the ceiling crumbling and sending the rubble onto the guardian, the mechanical being pinned under the stone. He could hear the soft protest she let out at him harming it, but his job right now was getting them out alive. 

He moved as quickly as he could while guiding the boxes behind him with her clinging with weakening strength to his back. He paused at the archway into the long hallway, the mace wielding guardian was marching towards them, having heard his rifle blast. He couldn’t take this thing out with anything in the environment. He shot at it, the guardian pausing for a moment before it continued, the metal footsteps echoing louder. 

“Don’t shoot...put the rifle down…” She was speaking to him. The menacing metallic being getting closer. He didn’t drop the weapon, taking aim for the beings mechanical eye. “Please Mando... put the weapon down. These bodies didn’t belong here, we can pass. We aren’t stealing.” She begged him softly, her body weakening as her energy was fading. Din had to drop the rifle to reach back and keep her from falling to the floor, cursing as he had to move back, the guardian upon them and the mace swinging up ready to come down. With what little energy she had Andora tried to drape herself on him. The weapon stopped in it’s decent on them, looming over but not advancing. It seemed to be looking over the boxes behind the pair, the weapon returning to an upright position as the guardian moved past them towards the other guardian, the two mechanical beings speaking in an odd droid dialect, content to ignore them. The guardian helping the other free itself. Din did not question the good fortune. He shifted Andora on his back, using his rifle to help him keep her legs in place as he slung her over his shoulder to carry her, the woman passed out from exhaustion. The march out of the ruins and back to the camp seemed to take an eternity before he crossed the threshold, but as he stepped through the archway his systems came back on in his helmet. The sun was rising and he realized they had lost time inside the building. The droid and it’s transport bed were waiting for him, and he gratefully put her down, his back aching from carrying her limp body. He put the tethered coffin boxes on the transport as well, taking a seat as he let himself take a break. The droid took off, and Din held back the urge to sleep. He wanted to just collect his kid. 

As they reached Dr Syille’s tent he hopped off, tapping on the tent pole so he could get her attention. The flap opened, the older woman did not look like she had slept at all. She looked him over before looking to the transport bed, gulping as she looked at the boxes. Hesitantly Brezen walked over to the transport, the pram floating safely inside. 

“She’s in the third one.” He spoke, going inside to collect his own child from the tent. He could hear the older woman gasp and start crying. Din noticed the pram was open, the kid looking up at him, a giggle escaping as the kid reached up for him. Reaching out his hand he was relieved to feel the three chubby digits grasp a finger and squeeze. It was a very bitter sweet moment. He had his foundling here, alive and safe, and all he could bring back were bones. The elder woman came inside, opening the flap so the droid could back up the transport. 

“Stay in my tent so you two rest up. I’ll start the data transfer.” Din nodded, picking Andora up again and putting her on the doctor’s cot. “I have food and drink in my personal stores, help yourself.” She smiled, trying to be hospitable despite her sadness. She sat on the transport bed, her hand resting lovingly on the third box, and the droid moved away. The kid was looking at Andora asleep on the bed, his head tilted curiously. Din took a chair and sat next to her, taking her hands and glad she was asleep as he began to wash the mud from her shredded flesh, noticing just how much blood was coming off as he washed. She had really damaged herself. The skin was lacerated and the nails torn in painful ways. He was worried thinking he saw bone. He opened his med kit, using a bacta gel on her hands before bandaging it up. Glad to see that the blood was not soaking through his field dressings. He had been unnerved by the experiences, but seeing what she had done to herself, her words about a memory replaying till she was done digging. His mind drifted back to the ship wreck, and considering what he was starting to understand, it might have been this force magic that caused her to push her body to these painful extremes. With a sign he settled into a seat, pulling the kid’s pram over to him. The kid crawled out and into his lap, looking up at him, and Din swore he could feel his stress leaving him, a small smile on his lips. 

“Hey kiddo. I need some sleep, think you can stay in the tent?” The child was focusing on his masked face, and the large eyes seemed to be shining with understanding. “Ni vercopaanir gar kar'taylir tion'solet Ni baatir.” (I hope you know how much I care.)

* * *

“Sayr.” He tapped his sleeping Dad’s helmet, standing on the chest plate to reach. It had been hours since the adults had come back from the scary dark place, and he had explored everything he could in the tent. He was bored and wanted to go outside. There was a soft groan as Dad woke up, and he couldn’t help but cuddle and try to climb on the shiny helmet. 

“Is it time to get up?” Dad was chuckling before the gloved hand came up to support his body while Dad sat up in his chair. 

“Sayr.” He said firmly, trying to express his boredom. 

“How about some breakfast before you drag me off.” Dad was going to take him outside! Okay, if Dad needed food he would be good. He allowed Dad to put him back in the cradle and close the lid, rolling around in his blankets as he waited for playtime outside. 

Din checked that Andora was still asleep before grabbing some food, his helmet off as he ate quickly. He had slept as well as he could in the chair, needing to stand and stretch his muscles. He barely tasted the food, not feeling secure enough to keep his helmet off for a long time. Besides, his kid was waiting for him to go outside. Helmet firmly in place Din opened the screen, the kid popping up excitedly as he reached up for him. Din picked him up and walked out of the tent, letting Andora rest. Having been through the kid’s own unconscious bouts after using powers he was less worried about her. He carried the kid away from the camp so they could be alone, wanting to be away from the camp. 

* * *

Andora slowly woke up, feeling heavy from exhaustion, her hands aching terribly but she was too tired to be bothered by it. She ate the food closest to her reach, the food helping her restore some energy, and she finished what she recognized was fruit. Grabbing another piece she pushed through the pain in her hands, eating more as she tried to direct her body towards healing itself. She had eaten five pieces of fruit before she could feel enough energy to not be ravenous. She finally saw that her hands were bandaged, and took in the tent and cot. Mando wasn’t here. That trance had been a terrible experience. Warrior deaths in armor while sad had at least acceptance from the wearer. It had been a risk, they understood that. But hearing civilians begging for their lives was horrible. As the real world settled in her hands hurt worse and worse, her body finally registering the injuries. Mando had saved her, treated her wounds, and she knew her crush was getting worse. Her delirious brain had memorized the way the moonlight shone on his beskar as he carried her out of the ruins, and it was impossible to not recall. The hard plates of armor pressed into her soft body, his aim steady even with her burdoning him. 

Standing up, she walked out of the tent, seeing she was in the sleeping section of the expedition camp. She walked out towards Dr. Syille’s tent, the entire area a flurry of activity. Andora opened the tent, waiting in the filter lock to grab the doctor’s attention. 

“Thank you for finding her.” The older woman came over to the door, smiling through the tears in her eyes. 

“I understand how important it is to have family together.” Andora was keeping her hands behind her back, wanting to keep her injuries private. “I promise you...the list...we aren’t going to do an-”

“It’s for the child.Unfortunately I do not know if the list will help. There are only two known Jedi that look like the child, their home planets are not listed, but I highlighted the names of Jedi that were not purged by the Empire who might be able to help.” She was holding up a data card, putting it through the slot, letting it move to Andora’s side of the lock. Andora picked it up and secured it in her pants pocket, pushing through the pain she felt picking it up. She needed to change her bandages soon, she could feel the blood soaking through the wrappings. 

“Thank you Dr. Syille.” Andora was turning to leave and go find Mando so they could leave the research camp to their own devices while they handle their own business. “I hope that I can invite you to the opening of my heritage project.” 

“I would be very honored to make the trip. When is it unveiling?” She knew Andora had been working on this since the Empire had fallen.

“I...don’t know...things on Mandalore aren’t-” Andora signed, wishing she could explain to her mentor what was happening. “I’ll make sure to leave a message with your assistant.” Leaving the tent she pulled out the comm link from the blade holster, clicking it. “Mando, I have the list.”

* * *

Pirpak was trying to get close to the singing woman but she was avoiding him for the past two days. Her hands hurt and he wanted to help. His little steps couldn’t keep up with her as she picked up her grass outfit and walked off towards the tall trees, Dad was inside the ship, and he remembered that the last time that she left it had made Dad mad. He chirped loudly. 

“Sayr.” Metal footsteps came at his call, Dad standing at the ramp, talking with the woman who had stopped moving.

“Andora. Your hands are in no condition to be hunting. I will go out.” Dad said, the woman turning to look back.

“I was just going out for a quick walk, try and get the lay of the land. I won’t hunt.” Her voice sounded a little higher than normal. 

“Then leave your ghillie suit.” She slowly walked back, putting the suit under the ship once again. She wasn’t looking at Dad, her face slightly pink. “Head south of camp.” Dad sounded serious, not mad but firm. The woman nodded, her bandaged hands still hurting, the muscle and flesh cut up and bleeding. 

When they first got home he had tried to heal her, her own power watching him, but she had pulled away from his little clawed hands when he had started. After that Dad and the woman talked about him and Dad had felt worried. He didn’t know what Dad was worried about, but after that Dad had kept her separated from him beyond eating times. She was walking off again, this time towards the water. Dad watched her before scooping him up and taking him inside to keep an eye on him. Dad was cleaning his weapons, talking to him as he did. Names, parts, what they did, type of hunt to take them on. Dad took time to explain how to also protect himself from the weapons. It was a lot of words he didn’t understand but he was trying to make the sounds back. After the weapons Dad started to point to pieces of armor and naming them too. Dad said the words, this time letting him touch the pieces so he could learn them more. Dad was holding him up to the shiny helmet hiding his Dad’s face, tapping on it and saying a word. 

“Buy’ce. Helmet.” Dad tapped his fingers on the helmet, repeating the words slowly. 

“Boo-sey.” He could hear the chuckle from Dad, listening to it again, his little green face scrunching in concentration as he tried to get his lips to say these sounds. “Bo-cey.” No, that wasn’t right. “Boo-chay.” 

“Oh wonderful! You’re such a fast learner!” The lady was back, and a food smell coming from outside. She felt healthier, no more hurt hands. 

“I told you not to hunt.” Dad sounded annoyed with her, setting him down into his lap.

“I didn’t, I just caught some fish. And found some berries, but I wanted to scan them before trying to eat them.” She held up her hands, the bandages off and her skin looked fine, as if she had never been injured. “I’m all healed, I didn’t push myself." She was trying to be reassuring. "I felt bad for not contributing. Let me be useful.” She smiled and there was something sad in her tone.

“Thank you Andora.” Dad’s voice sounded a little deeper, but it was hard to tell through the modulator. She blushed and came to pick up her flute. Dad was tilting his head slightly to watch her, the woman going back outside and sitting on the cargo box as she started to practice her song again. He wanted to go outside and play now, crawling out from Dad’s hold and going out the ramp, hearing Dad stand to follow him, watching from the door as he went to chase his own snacks of those yummy bugs with the crunchy legs. 

* * *

Chapter End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ncstalgia: Thank you for the review! It helped me push through this chapter. I hope it's exciting to read. I was playing with perspectives since we followed Andora for a while.


	8. Lines

Din was watching from his ledge, Pirpak with him as he watched Andora on her hunt. She had tracked the three horned creature down, the beast a bit older than he had been hoping for, but this was just an evaluation. He had made her select a different weapon, noticing she had also brought with her a spear she made. While he could admire her craftsmanship on the primitive weapon he needed to see her fight with modern equipment. She was laying on the tree branch, high up and taking careful aim with the weapon he had handed her. The first round of shots rang out, the plasma bolts scorching the animals thick hide but it didn’t pierce the flesh. The beast charged the tree she was in, slamming into it hard, him watching the entire tree shake and her cling to the branch to hang on. He was aiming his own rifle, setting up his shot in case she failed. The beast was pushing the tree, the creak of the wood splitting at the base of the trunk. He was taking a deep breath and readied his trigger finger, cursing as she let out a wild war yell and dropped onto the beast from above, the spear using the gravity and her weight to push into beast, blood running down it’s side. The beast echoed her war cry and started to try and buck her off it. Her hands holding firm as she pushed the spear deeper and deeper into the animal's flesh. With her on it he couldn’t take the shot. His weapon was still on its strap on her body, and she had to jump off as the rhino like animal to avoid being scraped off on the tree trunk. She rolled and righted herself, and he wondered if that magic of hers was helping her. The animal was yelling in rage, and she was yelling back, the animal charging her as she jumped over the animal, using her spear handle as a leverage point to remount the beast and blast the animal in the neck with the weapon he gave her. He wanted to get up and help her to make sure she would survive, but he had to let her fight. 

The blasts to the neck did not slow the animal down, but he noticed that as she put her hands on the animal that it seemed to weaken. It could be the blood loss. The creature rammed into the cliff face, tumbling to the ground and she yanked the spear out, stepping back before letting out an unearthly yell, it filled with a wave of power it seemed and she charged the animal, driving the spear deep into its neck. The beast stopped moving, and he watched her come to kneel near the beast, leaning her head on it. Turning on his jetpack Din went down to meet her, trying to hold his flight steady and glad she was distracted as he knew his flight had been less than graceful. She seemed to be thanking the beast for its fight, looking up and him with an embarrassed smile at being caught in the tender moment. Standing to her feet he saw the blood smattered on her clothes and skin. 

“You used your magic.” He didn’t mean to accuse her.

“Yes. It’s a skill I have.” She was defensive, not liking that he was going to discount her accomplishment. “Just because you can’t do it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t. Tarre Vizsla used the Force and is considered a great warrior. No one discounted his skills just because he could use it.” 

“You rely on them too much.” She had been helpless in the ruins. If he hadn’t come to her, she might have lost her hands from her injuries. He did not like how this force pushed her to such extremes. He wouldn’t let the kid use it as an excuse for practice in a skill.

“That’s like me saying you rely on your right hand too much. It’s unreasonable to ask me to seperate it from my fighting.” She was huffing in annoyance, turning back to the animal, using her right hand to pull open the wound and taking the blade in her left hand to start cutting away the connective tissue, her right hand tugging the skin further away and her knife skinning the leathery hide from the meat. With a large enough pocket of skin pulled away she switched back to the spear to start cutting the hide, not wanting to dull the blade on the resistant flesh. The view of her at work brought back memories of him and Xi’an. The view of blood and flesh being exposed by a blade sent both a thrill and a shock through him. He had hoped he wasn't still the kind of man he had been when he and the Twi’lek had been together. It did help that Andora wasn’t taking any joy in the death, seeing it as a necessity and praying for the creature. Din did think she looked appealing with the small spray of blood on her skin, but not in the same way. Her look of meditative focus as she worked a lovely contrast to the manic excitement of the twi’lek. 

Andora was taking healthy chunks of meat to carry back to the ship to cook, wrapping it in pieces of hide she freed from the animal’s body. He came to help her, Pirpak just hanging out in the bag that was converted into his carrier since Andora never protested to him being carried in it. 

“You can’t fight when it’s exhausted. It’s a vulnerability.” She needed to be trained in Mandalorian fighting, she was using a style that must be based off her time with Barabels. It was effective for hunting, but against an actual opponent she would be too helpless. 

“Oh, so I am guessing you never get exhausted.” He rolled his eyes at her childish retort. Glad his helmet hid his own expression of exasperation. 

“I do, but I can last longer than you. We’ll start sparing tomorrow.” They tied the meat to her spear staff to help carry the weight and bring more of her kill back. 

“Mando...that’s not...I mean…” She was looking down at the ground instead of him as they started to trek back to base camp. “I am only going with you until we find a home you think is safe enough, and to hide the helm. Is it really worth your time?” Din slowed his steps at her words. Andora was surprised at his offer, wishing she could be excited about it. He was going to train her? Surely that was unnecessary. She just needed to be able to hunt, not fight. 

“I don’t know how long it will take to find his kind, or how dangerous it will be. You asked to be useful, having another trained Mandalorian till then is useful.” 

“I have to go back when we finish...I promised Senator Ordot I would turn myself in for review after I finished my task of keeping the Helm safe.” Andora was trying to match his pace since he was the lead. He could respect her for keeping that bond.

“For stealing the helm?” 

“The government has a strict antiquities law about anything leaving the planet without paperwork. But I didn’t exactly have time to file the request.” She was trying to keep it humorous and upbeat. 

“What happens when you go back?” His voice was even but he had a bad feeling about it. 

“It’s a crime punishable by up to 10 years based on review.” She sighed, not able to deny herself she was likely to be seeing the full ten. The pacifist government was not her biggest fan, they would probably enjoy being able to diminish the importance of her position and the history she preserved. Maybe Senator Ordot would advocate for her to only get 5 years. He understood how important it was to keep their warrior history alive. Mando could feel her steps slowing as she let her mind wander too far into the future. If she obsessed over it she would have more visions. 

“Do you want to learn how to fight?” His voice snapped her out of her thoughts about her future. “Don’t debate, just an answer.”

“Yes.” Andora could hear the hopefulness in her own voice, hating that she sounded so needy. She wanted this chance so badly. “But Mando I-”

“I need another Mandalorian, you said you want to fight. We train tomorrow. What happens after we finish our mission is after. Focus on what we are doing now.” His tone left her no room to argue. Andora blushed behind him as he led them back to camp, glad he couldn’t see the grateful smile on her lips. 

* * *

This was harder than he had predicted. She was a fast learner, but she was holding back too much, and when he tried to push her, the kid would get upset. Thinking back to his arm wrestling match with Cara and the attempted strangulation, he wondered if that was holding Andora back. She could feel this magic, maybe she could feel that the kid would hurt her if she tried to fight back? 

He tossed her to the ground again as she failed to counter his grapple, and he almost felt bad at the grunt of pain she let out. He followed her down in the grapple, putting his weight on her in a pinning motion as he got ready to go in for the ‘killing’ blow. Then his son started crying again so he released her before she had a chance to try and counter him. He couldn’t teach her like this. 

“It’s fine, we’re training. She has to learn kiddo. This is how we train, it’s part of this. You gotta relax.” It was frustrating. The kid just wasn’t understanding. “Can’t you use your magic to help him understand?” He asked Andora in a genuine moment of parental need. He turned to find her still on the floor in the grasses where he had pinned her, groaning a bit. Endurance training would need to be added if she was winded already. “It’s been four days since we started ad’ika, please just understand.” (little one) Andora rose up and came over to them. Taking the child from Mando so the man could rest. 

“It’s hard for him. He is used to you only fighting people that meant him harm, he doesn’t know why you are fighting with me. Maybe we should hold off till he is asleep?” The child was babbling as he patted his clawed hands on Andora’s left arm, a childlike way to check that both caregivers were safe. 

“Then we will get nowhere. He has been adverse to sleeping recently.” Mando was frustrated, tired, and just wanted to get this training done. 

“Maybe you should take a break and rest yourself. You are getting frustrated and my back is feeling it.” She offered playfully, putting Pirpak down so he could waddle in their campsite. 

“Did I push your limits?” He had been focused on the form, he hadn’t thought about the fact he was in full armor and was slamming her down without any protection. She looked away, avoiding his gaze, and he finally noticed her favoring her left arm. Thinking back he had grabbed her and tossed her on her left shoulder over and over again. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I want to learn.” She was trusting him to make the best choices in her training. “Fighting isn’t pain free. Besides, even though it’s been a while, the beatings at the camps were worse. At least you want me to fight back.” He hadn’t been taught like this. He had been taught slower, with consideration to his own well being, instead he had been taking out his aggression on her. His stomach sank. The kid had been trying to stop him from hurting her, the kid had seen his anger, and had been trying to help. 

“We’re done for today.” He needed to put some space between them. Why was he angry with her? Why was he trying to hurt her instead of train her? Was he really that threatened by her magic?

“I’ll go get some fish for dinner. The fruit trees on my way might have some more ripe ones too.” She moved to grab her bag to go off, him letting her go because she usually came back healed. Picking up Pirpak he walked into the ship, thinking to take her up on the chance to rest. Locking up the ship he secured the cockpit hatch, letting the kid have free reign of the cargo hold. 

Din had installed the divider wall for the refresher that he had in storage because it was just too big a hassle for him and Andora to be constantly waiting in the cockpit while the other handled their needs. He went inside, taking his helmet off and washing his face. He looked at his face, staring into his reflection as he thought about what he had done. He dried his face and hair before slipping back into his helmet, exiting the refresher and meeting his son’s big eyes, looking up at him. The big brown eyes stared up, gurgling sounds mixed with Sayr. It sounded almost scolding like when he had scolded the kid over Cara.

“I know.” Din would make amends with her when she returned. “Thanks for speaking up kid.” Din sat on the floor, letting his muscles relax as he worked with Pirpak with some more words. He was picking up on food words the fastest. Andora used the comm link and he opened the side of the ship for her, seeing that the fish was already cooking with a bunch of washed fruits and what he guessed was vegetables. “I’ll peel them.” He said softly as she came up to join them inside the ship, glad to see she wasn’t favoring her arm anymore. Andora excitedly came to pick up Pirpak, sitting beside him at a respectful distance. “It won’t happen again.” Her eyes looked up to him, tilting her head a bit as she tried to meet his gaze under the helmet. “I’ll teach you properly. It never should have come to injury at this stage.” 

“Do you want me to stop holding back my magic?” She asked him softly, and he sighed, realizing she had been holding back her magic and her training was suffering just as much from that as his own lack luster instruction. The guns she was fair enough with, it was the close quarters combat she needed most. 

“You really can’t fight without it huh?” He needed to train her as she was, not as he wanted her to be. 

“Based on how many times you pinned me down...no, I can’t.” She said goodnaturedly, taking Pripak with her to go tend to the fish cooking. He rose slowly after her to keep his promise to prepare the rest of the meal. 

“I just figured you liked it.” Her teasing dragged the flirty response from him. He hoped he hadn’t crossed a line with her.

“Before you dislocated my shoulder it was pretty nice.” She was blushing brightly as she turned her back towards him to try and keep some composure. It really wasn’t fair he could hide his face behind the mask when making those kinds of statements. 

* * *

The glossy finish of the black armor was an impressive sight, and Karga was not happy to be seeing it in his establishment again. The squadron of Death Troopers walked in calmly, two standing guard at the door, the others putting themselves in positions that gave them all great shots at mowing down any dissenters. The bounty hunters all froze up around the room, hands at the ready, but they were all sweating. The apparent leader walked over to the table Karga was sitting at, the hunter that had been trying to take a job clumsily sliding out of the way as the trooper pointed his weapon and made a simple motion to get up. 

“I thought your lot left after Gideon Died.” 

“Moff Gideon pulled us off the planet since the asset was taken.” The black visor was reflecting back the hard glare Karga was giving him. “But let's talk about the present. Andora Vizsla was seen in the marketplace here a few weeks ago. She was leaving with the same Bounty Hunter that caused problems for the Moff last time we were here. Give me the transmission code you use to reach him, and we won’t level the place.” Karga was assessing the room and was looking for the flash of Cara’s armor. The Death trooper raised his fingers and made a quick motion. Another Death trooper dragging Cara through the door being bound in cuffs, gagged, and judging from the black eye it had not been easy. “She’s good. We’re better. Now, give us the code and we leave.” Karga didn’t want to give up Mando’s code, but he was also a fan of not being dead. 

"How do I know you won’t shoot me once I give you the code?” Greef needed assurances. The beskar brick was still in his pocket, but the blaster was pointed at his head. The Death Trooper put down his blaster, looking at the bar and ordering a strong drink for himself. The droid sending it over as the cantiana waited for the next move. The Death trooper leader removed his helmet, taking a drink without any fear. Warm tan skin with dirty blond hair in a short buzz cut and green eyes. The man finished his drink, and smirked in what would have been a charming manner if not for the situation. 

“Because you are buying me and the boys here our drinks, it’s been a rough week.” He tossed his head back and laughed, saying something in a language Greef didn’t recognize to another trooper, the armed men starting to place drink orders. “Everyone else, Clear out! This place is closed for a private party.” He let loose a warning shot into the ceiling. The bounty hunters all quickly scrambled to leave, Cara being brought over to be sat in the booth. A black bag was placed over Cara’s face, the woman screaming in outrage into the gag at now being blinded. “Now that it’s all settled, give me the code.” 

“Let her go.” The trooper holding her was struggling to keep hold of her, the unmasked man in front of him pointing his blaster at her head.

“Code. Then I’ll turn her loose.” His gloved finger was teasingly tapping against the trigger as he drank, unphased by the prospect of pulling it.

“Fine you win. Just put it down.” Greef felt sick to his stomach but he pulled out the chip with the Razor Crest’s transmission code. The man across from him handed it to another Death trooper that put it into a data pad, ripping the code from the chip before putting it back on the table. As promised the trooper holding Cara let go, the woman’s struggles sending her onto the table where she grunted in pain. There was a sick little crunch sound, and as Cara sat back up, Greef saw that the chip had been smashed. 

“That’s a spot of bad luck right there, I was letting you keep it. Oh well, guess fate’s just not on your side tonight.” Another bag was swiftly placed over Greef’s head, the man being cuffed much like Cara with his ankles and wrists unable to get leverage. “Thanks for the drinks though.” The man laughed in a jovial way, joining the other troopers at the bar as they started to drink their fill. They could report to the Moff tomorrow. 

They started to sing tavern songs, the sound of Mando’a echoing down in the tunnels below. The Armorer had been finishing up the necessary steps for transporting her suppies off this world, ready to go meet up with the remnants of her tribe at their secured location. She sat and listened all night as the dar’manda troops talked, thinking themselves safe from unwanted ears. Seems the girl Din had brought was right about having enemies, but she had misjudged who was to be feared. When the troopers left the Armorer came up through the grates into the cantina, freeing Cara and Greef from their predicament. 

* * *

Step, step, twist, charge.

He picked her up by her side and pinned her arms, his hold firm but lighter. He let her go to reset her approach.

Step, step, duck, leg sweep. He jumped her leg sweep, moving to grab her against since she was so close to the ground.

Jump, step, step, step back, offhand grab, twist and follow with her weight to push. Andora was panting heavily as she managed to get Mando to the ground finally. It had been a week since he had changed his approach to teaching her, and even with her powers she was struggling. Her acrobatics were more impressive, but she had no armor to weigh her down. He let her win the pin as she brought her hand down in what should have been the kill shot. She was straddling him since it had taken her full effort to pin him, panting heavily and flushed from the heat. Her hair was disheveled and he tried to keep his thoughts professional. She was trusting him as her commanding officer, she was still compliant to a fault with him, it wouldn’t be right to pursue anything. She might feel obligated due to his position over her. His hands clenched into fists to prevent himself from making an unwanted advance on her. He relaxed as she pulled from his body, letting himself up and congratulating her. She was getting the rhythm of combat better now. Pirpak was watching them fight, not protesting anymore, watching curiously at their movements. 

“I think we’re ready to head out after our first lead on the list.” Din was satisfied with her progress, and he was getting restless, like something was coming and he needed to move. “Pack up camp.” Andora was smiling with her victory, moving to obey his orders as he marched off towards the perimeter lines, collecting them. She was singing from near the ship as she washed the dishes and put them back in the cargo crate, moving it back into ship and making sure to kill the fire pit. He finished his task first, watching her as she secured the crate in place. 

“Don’t suppose we could stop anywhere with a proper bath and wash station?” She asked hopefully as he pulled up the ship ramp. He didn’t answer her, moving up to the cockpit and taking his seat, getting the engines warmed up. Andora and Pirpak joined him in the passenger seats at his left and right sides. He had spent his nights up here with the list, looking for his next lead. He pulled up his first stop, taking the ship off world before calculating out his hyperspace route. 

“We’ll be there in two days. We have enough water in the tanks if you want a longer shower.” 

“It’s not the same as a good long soak in a hot tub Mando.” She sighed dreamily. 

* * *

Chapter end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slower but the next one picks up.


	9. List

The way she was cradling Pirpak to her chest as she was reading to him from her data pad made her feel a lot more content than she had been for a while. Tarre’s helm was secured among Mando’s weapon cache, and the visions had thankfully stopped for now. She was safe for now, Mando was teaching her what she had always wanted to learn, and she was getting to care for a child as more than a babysitter. The child was squirming and seemed bored by the story right now, his claws trying to go to the pictures portion of the data pad. She smiled and helped him, letting him swipe through the pictures. He seemed very excited by the pictures of helmets, recognizing them as Dad’s face, saying as much as he tapped the pad and chanted Sayr. She let him play, helping him practice words when he pointed and looked up at her expectantly. He kept scrolling further and further back, and she let him do as he pleased, knowing he couldn’t delete her data without her password.

“Can I come up?” She stood up and went to the ladder.

“Coming down actually.” He was bringing his trash from his ration bar dinner, Andora stepping aside for him. 

“Okay, I promise not to touch anything up there. Just want to do some star gazing.” He nodded as she went up, coming to see what his son was doing since the kid had been chanting for him. Sitting on the floor on the fabric she used as a playmat for him he looked, seeing the armors the kid was scrolling through, the kid looking up excitedly as he pointed to the pictures and then to Din. It was cute, the kid was not quite understanding that not all helmets were him. The kid kept scrolling further, and eventually he was pointing at a picture of an armored man and a woman. “Anra!” The kid said excitedly. It was the name he gave Andora and she didn’t seem to mind.

Din looked at the picture and recognized that it wasn’t her, the woman had blonde hair but the same green eyes. Even with all of Andora’s coloring he could see as her roots grew out she was a brunette. The woman was wearing a wedding dress as the man in the picture next to her wore a very battle scarred set of painted beskar armor, the helm off and held between the couple. The man had a darker warm skin tone, brown hair, and brown eyes. The next couple of pictures were of the pair and a baby, the baby almost like a copy of his father as he grew up in the images. Suddenly it was just the father and son, the woman was missing and Andora not showing up until toddler pictures with her father. Her brother seemed to have taken pictures with her as a baby but as Pirpak scrolled through without grasping Din pieced it together. In one picture on a camping trip her brother was wearing his father's armor and she as a child was clinging to him excitedly as his father gripped his shoulder, a proud smile on his face. The next picture was Andora as a teen with her father at what looked like a musical performance, the remaining pictures just the pair of them. He wished he had a picture of his own parents, something to look and confirm their faces were the same as he remembered. Pirpak went to the videos recorded, bored of the still images now, tapping on them without any real interest, just wanting the stimulation. Din took the pad from the kid, closing it down before the kid invaded her privacy even more. 

Pirpak was pouting at being denied the data pad, but he reluctantly moved on as Din pulled the silver knob out for him, and Din was watching as the kid was rolling it before giggling excitedly as he levitated it on his own. Looks like Andora had been training the kid when not working on her own training. As long as it was controlled, it shouldn’t be a problem. The kid had seemed to grow a half inch taller, but since his robes were so long it didn’t change much. 

They landed on the jungle planet a small distance away from the space port, the sounds of civilization and the sounds of wildlife intermingling as he pulled out a scarf for her, and she wrapped it around her head to help hide her face and hair. She was tasked with carrying Pirpak as he brought his weapons, having her strap the blade, a small pistol along with the flute along her thighs and hip. This place was a bit rough so he wanted her and the kid protected. He let her go ahead, knowing it would help her blend in more if he was the tail instead of the lead. They were looking for a Jedi that had been highlighted on the list. Jedi Master Cere Junda, last known to be flying with the Mantis crew. Checking he had found that the ship had last been through the space port, and had not left yet. Andora was looking at the shops of the trading post, and he stayed way back, watching the crowd for retreats or threats. 

While looking with his skills she was tentatively reaching out with the force, the kid feeling her do it and eager to mimic her he lashed out his own senses and people seemed to feel it even though they didn’t know what it was. She pulled her energy back quickly and tried to distract him with a toy from the vendor in front of her, and his eyes widened in amazement at the shiny toy with little bells jingling on the multiple appendages. He reached out with his chubby claws, wanting to grasp it. Andora did not even try to haggle the price as she paid the vendor and gave the kid his new toy. The kid was gripping it firmly, his little claws digging into the fabric and so excited he was shaking which in turn made the toy jingle. The toy was the same size as himself, and he pulled it into his bag, the flap covering his head as he got to the important work of playing with his new friend. She could hear the kid babbling to the toy, the bells jingling as he shook and moved. Oh Mando was going to be annoyed with the bells. She tentatively reached out her senses again, the toy keeping the kid distracted now and under control. 

From the corner of her eye Andora caught the flash of movement as Mando stepped into the crowd and started moving towards a side path into a seedy alleyway. He must have caught sight of his prey. A second figure moved after him, and she followed as well, ready to draw her blaster as she moved Pirpak towards her back, not wanting to risk him getting hurt. Din had someone pinned to the wall, the red haired man was looking into Mando’s visor with fear, the figure behind Mando pulling out a blaster. He easily rolled his rifle off his shoulder and into his hand to point at the second assailant, and it was incredibly impressive. Andora took the blaster from the second person, who was putting their hands up. There was a swirl of energy from both of the people Andora recognized. 

“Mando, val kapr cuyir Jetii, Ni liser aalar etid kebbur at pirimmur asuba." (Mando, they might be Jedi, I can feel them trying to use the force.) Mando nodded to her and tossed the red haired man from the wall towards his companion who grunted as they caught him. He kept his rifle on them, glad to see Andora was also ready should the pair move. 

“Jedi Cere Junda.” Mando’s modulated voice was deep and terrifying as he glared down at the two through his visor. The cloaked figure pulled down her hood, and Mando nodded to Andora. This was their target “We need to talk.” His tone left no question of if. 

“Most jedi hunters don’t wait this long.” The set in Junda’s eyes showed no fear. 

“Lucky for you I’m not hunting.” His rifle never waiver from the target’s head. 

“Training an inquisitor?” She sneered at him, shooting Andora a dirty look. 

“A yalilyr ibac kyrayc adate ti asuba.” (A hunter that killed people with the force.) Andora offered to him as clarification while they keep their eyes on the target. “Draw back your powers, we just want to talk.”

“You lashed out in the market.” Cere accused Andora as her hand moved towards something at her hip. 

“A disintegration blast is faster than your magic. Keep your hands empty and we keep talking.” Mando didn’t know what she was hiding under the folds of her cloak, but his trigger finger was ready. Cere reassessed the weapon, her hands returning to where he could see them. 

“What do you think is worth talking about?” Cere was still glaring at them, the red haired man not able to do more than stand there between the set of blasters. Mando took a deep breath. 

“The life of another. Are you able to be trusted with that kind of information?” He saw something in her face drop, a tell of regret. She couldn’t keep a secret. The exposure risk was too high here. “Ibic cuyir a kyrayc kyr. La cuyir va ruusaanyc.” (This is a dead end. She's not trustworthy.) He kept his rifle on the pair as Andora started to back up and reenter the market square to head back to the ship. Pirpak popped up out of the bag, hearing Dad’s voice made him excited to show off his new toy, but the stuffed creature was too heavy and fell out of the bag. He started crying and reaching for the toy. Andora stopping to pick it up but Pirpak was already levitating it towards himself. She quickly put the toy back in the bag, Mando moving to join her as she walked faster from the market. 

Cere sat there in disbelief. That baby had looked like...it couldn't be. The pair were already rushing from here, and Cere stood and gave chase. Cal was coming after her, but she was focused on the baby. The baby had been the one to let out that massive burst of power. It was a chance for the Jedi to start over. To think it would be a Mandalorian rushing the child away to what he thought was safe. She could be good, she would show the child the light side of the force, she could repress her darkness if it meant the Jedi would continue. 

“Wait!! I can help!” The woman and the child were already out of sight, the armored man the one waiting for her at the edge of the jungle. His rifle was down, but she didn’t miss his hand on his blaster, her own hands raised up to show she was not trying to threaten him. “That child...it looks like...please let me help.” Cal was quickly behind her, the younger man had his hands up as well, but his body was tense. It was hard for the pair of Jedi to read the Mandalorian through his beskar. “I can train him, he’s too powerful to not be trained.” 

“Who does the child look like?” The modulated voice answered back firmly. 

“Grand Master Yoda and Master Yaddle.” Cere hoped he would reconsider, that he would let her near the child. He nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. Had he already known?

“The registry says Yoda died when the Empire rose. Where can I find Yaddle?” The man had a copy of the registry. Guess being a bounty hunter meant he knew how to find what he wanted. 

“I don’t...no one knows, she vanished before the clone wars started.” Cere wished she had a better answer but it was the truth, the Jedi Master had just left when the council had started to discuss going to war for the republic. 

“I can’t find the child on the registry. Is there a more complete list?” He wasn’t giving her anything more. 

“Not here, the only place it might have been...would have been Coruscant. The Empire was hunting the children on those lists. But please...I can take the child. I am Jedi, I can show him.” The armored man turned again and somehow he disappeared into the jungle in all his shiny armor. The pure dismissal, not even a rejection of her offer hurt. He saw something in her that he judged as not good enough for the child. 

“Are we going after them?” Cal asked from behind her. 

“No, He’s going to find someone else.” Cere gripped her fists together. “Perhaps it’s better though. If we survived the purge, maybe they will find a Jedi better suited to raising that child.” 

“But why would a Mandalorian care about protecting one of ours?”

* * *

Andora was waiting for him on the ship, Pirpak playing with his new toy on the blanket. Mando simply passed her by to get to the cockpit and take off. One name off the list. She waited till she felt the bump of the ship leaving the atmosphere before knocking to come to the cockpit with him. The jingling was thankfully not as bad as she feared. The pair sat in silence, her looking up to the stars as he scrolled through the list for another target. 

“Can you use your magic to find better targets on the list?” He turned to look at her through the visor, letting himself take in her appearance. Her hands slowly took the scrap scarf fabric from her head, and he still enjoyed the cascade of her hair. 

“I can try. Not sure how well it will work.” He kept staring at her, curious about how she would actually use the power. She moved to kneel and close her eyes, taking deep breaths as she let herself try and slip into a trance, but his eyes honed in on her made her aware of her breathing, of the tingle on her skin, and the nice feel of his presence. “Can you tell me some of the names? I don’t really know what to focus on.” She asked softly, and he turned to the list. 

“Yaddle.” Din felt this was the best fit, she was a Jedi of the same species. She could care for the child in both physical needs and when it came to the magic inside him. She might even be able to reunite the child with his birth family on their homeworld. Andora was silent, and he let her focus on the task, not sure how the magic worked, but he trusted her to do her best. 

Pirpak could feel Andora meditating and he climbed up to join the adults, his new toy floating along behind him as he came to rest against her knees, cuddling his toy as he felt what she was doing with her power. Andora did not seem to mind, her left hand moving to let the kid wrap his chubby fingers around her thumb. He was trying to mimic her again like at the market, his power wrapping around her weaker one and trying to understand what she was doing. She gently squeezed his hand, trying to direct him to follow instead of lead the force, her calling out into the force for Yaddle. His energy tried to match, but he wasn’t really able to grasp what it meant to call out to the force. 

In the darkness found behind her eyes as she meditated she felt her perception of the world dim more and more, only really aware of herself as a light, the child’s light glowing much stronger than her own. Stretching herself out she felt Din’s light, it was a different shade to her own, and she expanded further, the small glimmer from Tarre’s helm was like a shadow compared to the light of the living. She kept pushing farther than the ship, feeling weaker and weaker as she pushed her mind further than she had tried before. The child seemed to feel her light spreading too far, his own light trying to support her but she only pushed further than him. 

_“Rancisis look for you must.”_ Came an echo from another light that seemed to be further out but yet closer, a light flickering between here and not here. Andora kept reaching out, pushing herself past the pain. If she was hearing this voice maybe if she pushed she could reach her family. Suddenly the light pushed Andora back into her body. Mando was holding her as the kid was tapping her leg, both making a lot of noise she was struggling to process. Her mouth was full of a metallic taste and she coughed it up, her body seeming to remember that it needed to breath. She was feeling cold and disoriented, Mando gripping her face and turning her to look up at him. Andora could see through his helmet, her sight not quite back into her body fully yet. He looked worried and angry. Did she do something wrong? As her vision slowly returned to her body instead of her power the image of his face faded into the reflection of her face in his beskar where blood was flecked on it. Blood? Whose blood was that? Was the ship under attack?

She tried to stand but it was like her body just gave out under her, Mando catching her against himself. He was using the fabric she had been using as a scarf to pinch her nose and help her lean her head down, and she coughed up into the scarf. Her vision was focusing and she realized that she was the one coughing up blood. She must have been having a nose bleed and had been struggling to breath as it filled her mouth. Mando and the kid were still talking but she really wasn’t understanding it. It was strange, Andora tried to use the force to stop herself from bleeding but it seemed she had exhausted it to a point she had actually caused damage to herself. She felt the bacta shot Mando gave her, the healing serum helped compensate for her body’s lack of natural energy. The bleeding stopped but she was still limp as she felt him hold her. She took the bloodied scarf from him and tried to clean herself up. 

“What happened?” Her voice sounded hoarse to her own ears. 

“The kid came out of it before you did, started trying to wake you up. Then you started bleeding.” Mando sounded so angry. “You wouldn’t wake up.” She was aware that he was holding her tightly, and she hated herself a little for liking being held like this when he was obviously upset. 

“Rancisis. That’s what it said, we need to look for Rancisis.” If she didn’t say it now she might forget. 

“You pushed yourself to the point of suffocating on your own blood.” He was still angry with her. “I said try. Why would you push yourself like this?” He pushed her up against the wall to support her weight as he evaluated her. She smiled sheepishly at him, shivering a bit at the cold metal of the ship and her own low body heat. 

“Tal'onidir.” (Sweat blood) She said softly, smiling up as she felt the bacta take effect, her exhaustion catching up with her. “Ni shi copaanir at cuyir a jate verd.” (I just want to be a good soldier.) The bleeding had stopped and slowly her skin was returning to a healthy tone. She didn’t trust that she could get down into her cot to rest without jostling too much and starting the bleeding again or worse falling. He must have seen the way she was glancing at the ladder, his gloved hand turning her to look back at him, his visor close to her as he held her face gently in place.

“Cad olyay a katkagr acyk a verd bal eo ti a jaro.” (There is a difference between a soldier and someone with a death wish.) He was firm in his tone, and it made her feel so...exposed. Did she have a death wish? She looked down in shame, he was probably right. She just...he had wanted her to do something for the mission. She didn’t want to disappoint him, but she had been willing to die for a chance at hearing her family again. “Kurya'yr malyasa'yr va gotal'ur gar buir giarioa be gar.” (Dying won't make your father proud of you.) His tone was softer now, and his gloved thumb wiped her stray tears away. “Gar narir va ne'waadas at juha kak mayen, gar cuyir Mando, ti ra ures kaysh ca'a.” (You don't need to call yourself anything, you are Mandalorian, with or without his blessing.) How he seemed to pierce into the heart of what she was feeling, of what she had been doing, she didn’t know, but she let herself take solace in his words. “Gar shuk meh kyrayc.” (You're no use dead.) He shifted the tone and moved to help her down to her cot. He went down the ladder first, his hands on her hips as he helped her slide down the hatch. The kid was babbling in his half formed words, and Mando reached up and easily plucked the kiddo and his toy from the high perch, the kid settled on his shoulder as he helped Andora pull the cot open. She didn’t bother doing more than striping off her boots before slipping under the covers. 

The kid looked pretty tired too from an exciting and power filled day, not protesting as Mando put him in the padded bed to sleep. His toy clutched tightly to his chest and Mando laid the blanket over him before tethering it to the side of the ship so it wouldn’t move. He sighed heavily, needing to clean her blood off before it oxidized and started to make pits in the metal. With both of them asleep he could finally have some space to himself. He turned off the lights since he could still see with his helmet’s sensors. He easily pulled the supplies out, the pair so exhausted he could probably fire a couple blaster rounds and they wouldn’t do more than roll over. He cleaned his gauntlets, his chestplate, gloves and thigh pieces of blood, satisfied with their care he put the pieces on the rack to rest as he decided that while in orbit he should catch some sleep himself. He cleaned his other pieces just to be thorough about them before striping off layers of armor fabric and moving to his own sleeping compartment. He stretched out of the armor, feeling the tension in his bones and muscles from wearing it for days straight. Once inside the compartment he removed the helm, cleaning it carefully before laying himself down to rest. His hand came up to his face, feeling the stubble of his growing beard, and adding a shave to the list of tasks to complete in the morning. He had told her she was a Mandalorian even though everything about her was so different from himself. 

Or at least on the surface it looked to be. But she was a hard worker, she was devoted to her ideals, and she did her best to follow resol'nare. If the droids hadn’t attacked, he might have grown up like her, on a world without armor, where the idea of battle was feared, where he would have been forced to obey the Empire, and watch day by day part of what made them Mandalorians was chipped away by the galactic tides of change and politics. To ease his mind he pulled out his supercommando codex, reading from it to help calm the swirling thoughts of what ifs and focus on what was. 

* * *

Chapter end.


	10. Kyr'bes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy belated Valentines Day.

Commander Luast sighed as the civilian historians were trembling and clutching each other, the younger interns openly crying as the black armored men corralled them into the center of camp. The older aliens in the camp were glaring at them, obedient but resentful. The guard at the gate was probably going to die from the blaster shot. She really was making this hard, not that he wanted Andora to make the hunt easy. The longer she took, the more opportunity for him to thwart Gideon and take Mandalore for himself. Yeah he could just cheat and use the communication code to triangulate the ships position, but where was the fun in that. 

“Alright, so...guards are not coming to save you. The republic ship won’t find your corpses for at least another month on your next supply drop, and I honestly don’t like wasting my time. If you work with me, I save on blasters and you get to live. Andora Vizsla, we know her and her armored escort were here, we found their campsite and my troopers are looking through your security footage. Anyone want to volunteer.” Braig should probably be a bit more dignified while in Empire armor but honestly he didn’t care if he was respected, he was feared and that was better. The Kaminoan straightened his neck to its full height despite being forced to kneel at blaster point. “And we have a winner.” 

“You and your troops could easily be replaced with higher quality clones for the Republic.” Braig pushed his way over and punched the elder Kaminoan male, slightly satisfied as the head fin drooped. Dr. Saroo simply straightened his head. Large black eyes staring without flinching into the black trooper helmet.

“Wrong answer. Wanna try again?” He put his blaster against the head of a nearby intern, the young boy blubbering in fear as the muzzle pushed against his skin. 

“They left after they found my daughter’s remains. We haven’t seen them in over a week.” Dr. Syille stood slowly, her knee struggling against the winds which seemed to be whipping up in response to the emotional stress of the situation. Braig walked towards her, letting his blaster slap and graze the heads of the others as he passed. 

“What were they here looking for?” He kept his blaster firmly pressed on another younger researcher’s head, the young woman praying for safety in her native language. 

“For other Mandalorian Jedi. She wanted to check the registry to see if any names came up.” Dr. Syille was feeling her hearts break, she couldn’t lose these young people, she wouldn’t let this planet repeat history. 

“Did they find anything?” His tone was getting a bit more clipped, his gloved finger tightening on the trigger.

“I don’t know. I gave them the list and they left. I didn’t need to know more. They found my daughter, it was enough.” He pulled the blaster from the young woman’s head, looking down at his boots before meeting the older woman’s eyes through his visor. 

“You’ve been a great help. Sorry about your daughter, glad you are reunited.” He and the troopers started to walk off, the researchers sobbing in relief as the black armored men left them. It was cut short with screams as Braig fired a shot behind himself, the shot striking Dr. Syille and sending the woman to the ground. 

* * *

Andora sat up with a start, feeling like something was wrong. She didn’t know what it was, but it was really uncomfortable, like a weight on her chest. Near her on the shelf were a few ration bars, and she greedily ate them, feeling full and the ache in her chest subsiding. She drank water from the canteen left for her, and she realized that she could hear Mando talking softly up in the cockpit, and judging from the sound he was talking to Pirpak. Standing was harder than it should have been, but she forced herself to the refresher, seeing the dried blood staining her skin and washing herself. With freshly cleaned teeth, washed face, and fixed hair Andora climbed up to join them in the cockpit. 

“Oppo Rancisis was Yaddle’s student. He is not listed as dead, but no current location. We are heading off to Thisspias. Hopefully he returned home or at least reached out when the Empire fell.” Mando was bouncing the kid on his lap, the stuffed squid like creature with its jingling bells and lopsided patchwork face hanging out too. “Kid has been chatty with this thing. Cuddles at night with it too.” His tone was even, but she felt off, that odd ache in her chest still there but not as intense. 

“How long was I out?” She asked while sitting down in her usual spot. He turned slightly towards her but didn’t make direct visual contact with her. 

“I gave you a second bacta shot a few hours ago.” He had been worried she wouldn’t wake up. She had been breathing weakly for a couple days. 

“I’ll buy a refill when we stop somewhere.” He nodded, handing the kid and his stuffed playmate to her as he excitedly reached for her. He was asking her if she was okay, and she nodded. “Yes little one I am much better. I am sorry. I shouldn’t have scared you like that. Glad your new little friend is working out.” 

“He kept trying to heal you.” Mando still wouldn’t look at her. 

“Thank you for stopping him.” She clutched the child a little closer. “And for helping me.”

“I’m your bodyguard, it’s part of it.” He kept his voice neutral.

“Wait...I thought you were my commander.” Andora felt like he had slapped her.

“You take orders too far. I asked for you to look and instead of just saying you couldn’t find anything you nearly killed yourself. I try to train you, and you let me beat till you break because you think it’s supposed to be that way. You’re fair enough on the field, and great with him. But...your obedience is dangerous.” He looked out the window, and she understood why he was avoiding eye contact with her.

“Mando please...give me another chance. I don’t...I can’t...please don’t take this from me.” She tried to keep her voice steady. 

“Nothing will change. We will train, you can come on the field. But I can’t be your commander.” He looked at her finally, his visor making eye contact with her as best as it could convey. “I don’t want you to be obligated to obey me. You work better when you trust your instincts and stop trying to be what you think I want. As your bodyguard, I can step in and make the best choices for you when you push yourself, but we are equals on other choices.” His tone was even, and she knew he was trying to be diplomatic about this. He didn’t have to keep extending this chance, for her to train with him as a soldier, for her to go out with him if she wanted. 

“Does that include this one?” She asked after a few moments of near silence. 

“No.” A soft sigh escaped him. “We’re stopping for a refuel, I need to pick up some work to keep us stocked.” 

“Where are we stopping?” He was grateful she was accepting this development. 

“Canto Bight. It’s a gambling haven so plenty of debtors. Easiest work I can get that won’t side track us.” He stood up and walked to her, rubbing his glove along Pirpak’s head. 

“I can probably pick up some work as a lounge singer.” She mused mostly to herself. She would dig up some easy to rehearse songs to land a gig. They only needed enough to cover expenses.

“No, too dangerous.” He didn’t like the idea of her singing in a seedy dive. 

“Not if I have my own bodyguard.” She smirked at him. “Equals right?” Under his helmet he rolled his eyes, walking past her to go down to his weapons. Looking down at Pirpak she kissed the top of his head and started to jiggle the stuffed creature to make it’s bells chime. “I am gonna need a new dress and new hair color.” 

“Brown.” He called up from the cargo bay, her hearing him open the lock to the cashe. 

“A brown dress won’t look nice.” She responded back, bouncing Pirpak on her knee. 

“Your hair. Going natural will blend in more.” Mando was picking up different guns, thinking that he might want to stick to smaller models to keep the higher end clientele from getting too skittish. 

“Maybe...I’ll have to see what they have on planet.” She wasn’t interested in having her hair look so typical. But she guessed he had a point. Everyone that knew her knew she went for more extreme colors. The last thing she would want to do is blend in, so it might be better. Even thinking that she couldn’t bring herself to agree. “Are you going to paint your armor so it blends in more?” 

“Not a chance.” He sounded offended she even asked. 

“You stick out more than me!” She pouted playfully, if he was keeping his armor she was going to keep some kind of crazy with her hair. Pirpak was getting fussy and she followed him down to the Cargo hold. She should have put her bed away but she just slumped back on the cot. 

“You’re taking it well.” He didn’t know why he brought it back up. He watched her look away from him, her fingers interlocked as she pressed back up against the wall of the ship. 

“You said nothing will change. That we basically get to keep on how we interact but...different titles. I like being out here, getting to fight, to learn what I should have decades ago. So, if all that is different is a title, it’s a waste of effort to be upset over it. Right?” Her teeth were worrying her bottom lip, her body pressed against the wall and he was keeping contact through his visor with her eyes.

“If you didn’t have to go back for review, would you stay out here?” He didn’t know what was motivating him to chat so much, but he wanted to know. “Would you be willing to join the Creed?” 

“I won’t wear a helmet all the time if that’s what you are asking. Out in the field, definitely a good idea, but not when I am in places with people I care about. My dad never wore it at home.” She pulled her legs up on the cot, looking at him with a smirk.

“You’re a native Mandalorian so that rule shouldn’t apply?” He allowed some teasing into his voice.

“No, practicality. I like food too much to not eat whenever I want.” She giggled softly, and he chuckled a bit. Finishing with his weapon selection he closed the locker and sat on the bench across from her. 

“Ah of course. Far more important than honor is your stomach.” His tone was still light, teasing, and he was glad he had changed his position over her. 

“You’re getting the idea now. I can’t take you to any fun restaurants, everything would be packaged to go and cold by the time you could eat it.” 

“You want to take me to dinner?” His visor tilted in a way that he hoped conveyed a more flirty tone. 

“More like I want to go to fun restaurants and would just feel guilty eating in front of you.” Her cheeks were a bit pink but he let it drop. 

* * *

The city was actually kind of nice to look at, and she was surprised he actually parked at the spaceport in the city. When he explained how uptight they could be about parking arrests she just nodded, wondering if it wasn’t for her and the kid if he would have taken the risk. “I’m stopping by the guild headquarters, you and the kid stay in the nicer part of town.” She had changed into some black pants with her red top, Pirpak and his toy in the bag as she pulled her hair into a ponytail. Andora put the blade under her shirt again, taking her flute with her while leaving the blaster. 

“I have the comm link.” As the door opened Mando walked out, his armor reflecting the strong sunlight. Reaching into her bag she was going to pull out credits for the docking few but he had already dropped them off with the clerk, him firmly telling the clerk to not let droids near the ship. Huffing she had to jog a little to keep with his determined steps. “Mando you should have let me pay.” 

“You bought his toy, and dinner on the other planet.” Stopping at the main street he pointed her towards the side of town he felt more confident she could avoid trouble in. He pat Pirpak’s head and started off down the street, and eventually the traffic building up around her helped Andora walk off in the opposite direction. 

The food from the bistros lining the street and smelled wonderful, the clean plaster walls smooth, and painted a warm cream color. Tourists and locals were both walking around, boutique stores selling clothes, local art, souvenirs, and the like. The street was fully paved, with a central row of plants to catch the eyes. She wished she could have let Pirpak walk but with his tiny size she worried he might get hurt. He was looking out from the open pouch of the bag, watching the array of different life forms and sights. As she walked closer to the larger buildings she noticed it was only tourists dressed in more expensive clothes on the street. The boutique local shops replaced by stores that were aimed at the upper classes. She held her head high and walked confidently through the crowd, unbothered by their stares. These people were not that far off from the large donors to the museum, she was used to chatting with people in this social class for donations to support her work. Yes she normally had nicer clothes while doing it, but she was coming from the field so not much to be done about it. There was a smaller scale hotel, with an open restaurant, soft music coming from inside the restaurant to entertain the patrons. Well, she was going to have to look for work somewhere, so it was as good a place as any to start. Walking into the restaurant with her best smile in place she asked the hostess if the manager was in. The woman looked her over, eventually she was directed towards the staff door, and told to knock. She covered Pirpak as they entered the office. The older female Toydarian was smoking as she looked over the papers at her desk. 

“Let me guess, you're here to beg for work to pay for your debt?” There was a real callousness to the words, having heard the same story plenty of times. 

“No. I was just curious if you were hiring singers for a few nights. I don't plan to stay long.” Thankfully Andora wasn't in that position, coming here desperate for work. It was more just stay productive so her and Mando could set out sooner. If she didn't get anything he would still be able to provide.

“Oh, think you're some kind of music idol, that I should just let you grace my establishment with your gift. That some big shot will hear you and take you to be famous?” There was a harsh hacking laugh from the blue alien, her webbed feet crossed under her on her raised chair. 

“I just need some work to keep from being bored while I am here.” Andora didn't let anything other than mild disinterest cross her face as she spoke. Eyes narrowed as they examined Andora’s face, trying to find the tell. Since it was the truth there wasn't anything to hide. Throwing her head back she laughed heartily, her trunk contracting with her snorts, showing off the jewels drilled into her tusks. The laughter made her wings flap hard enough she rose off her seat. 

“I like you, you actually want to work. Most humans that come in here want money for nothing or are so full of themselves they think I owe them. But no, you, you just want to work and go.” As she calmed down from her laughter her wings stopped flapping, she sat down again, her hand rubbing her chin in consideration. “I don't need any singers or music but let me call around, maybe I will find something. It won't be as nice as my place, but in a town like this lazy people give up work every day.” True to her word she was reaching out to what seemed to be other Toydarians, maybe a family of them here that were all running businesses. Andora sat patiently, wondering if she should spend some extra credits and give herself a little bit of a spa day. She didn’t mind the workload of being out in the field, she loved it actually, but she still wanted to feel feminine when the chance arose. Besides, what harm could it be for her to pamper herself a little. Andora couldn’t understand the Toydarian’s native language, but based on the tone of the fifth call it was a success. The woman’s trunk seemed to crinkle up with a smirk as she hung up and turned towards Andora again, her hands writing on a scrap of paper. “Here, their singer is sick, they need a replacement for a few shows. If you go and the manager likes you, they discuss pay. It’s a classy bar but the owner may give you some trouble.” 

“He’s a womanizer?” Andora was guessing by the tone. The other just smirked and the winged shoulders shrugged. “I can handle that, as long as he pays.” 

“Most men in the business are. Not worried about him trying anything?” Her clawed fingers were resorting papers that had been moved by her laughing fit.

“I’m not desperate, he steps out of line and I leave him without an act. I am there for work, not for his enjoyment.” Andora put the scrap of paper with the address in her pocket, standing to leave while reaching out to shake the toydarian’s hand. “Thank you for your time.”

“I like you, ask him for double.” The woman chuckled as she waved her out of the office, Andora walking back and trying to find the address written down for her. It was a couple of streets over and a few blocks down but still fairly close to the larger casinos, but the racetrack noises were fainter. The lounge had a nice enough exterior, matching with the overall architecture of the city. Next door seemed to be a motel, which seemed a bit off for this part of town but it was convenient. She entered the establishment, the lounge was painted dark red, with dark wood floors, a very nicely set up bar with another toydarian at work on some papers. The main stage had dark curtains, and the tables were along the walls of the building and an inset floor for the tables to be level with the stage. A few of the larger instruments were visible in the corner of the stage. She walked over to the bar, the male Toydarian looking up, ready to yell at the person coming in before they were open, but he squinted as she came over.

“Ah, you the human that wants some work. You a singer yeah.” 

“Yes, I am a singer.” She came closer, showing her flute as well. “I am on planet for a couple days. Not staying too long.” 

“Good, give my normal girl some time off to get her voice back. Not planning to hire for longer. So, sing something for me.” He waved his hand at her, not caring that there was no music. Taking a deep breath Andora started to sing one of her rehearsed songs, it was just a simple sappy love ballad that was translated from Mando’a. The song went for a few moments before he grunted, thinking it over. “You learn her songs, sing them a few nights. Can you do that?” 

“For pay yes.” She wasn’t going to be conned like a young girl with dreams of stardom. She was a grown woman with a job, she would be fine either way.

“Right right. First night I will give you 60 credits. If they like you, I pay more next night.” 

“60 won’t even buy me a room for the night. I need 400 for each night.” He rubbed his chin, thinking about her offer, which means he knew he had low balled her to start. 

“How about this, I pay you 200 credits a night, and give you a room for free next door while you here. And drinks on the house?” He was thinking it was a fairer deal, he needed to come out ahead still though.

“I need two rooms, one bathroom with a tub. And 300 a night.” He was squinting at her firmly, rubbing his whiskered chin before countering Andora’s offer. 

“Okay, you drive a hard bargain. I give you two rooms, but they have no view. Free food and drink, and 250 a night, but you wear the clothes we pick out for your songs.” He figured that was still enough to come out ahead since their normal girl was 500 a night. His boss liked human women, so if the woman showed some skin it all evens out.

“Who is paying for the clothes?” It was an old trick, and he smirked as he held up his hands at being caught in the scam. 

“If they come back undamaged, no charge, you ruin the clothes, out of your pay.” He held out his hand for her. “Deal?” She read his aura, finding that while it was a bit scummy, it was an honest offer. Besides, nothing she could not handle. 

“Alterations don’t count as ruining them.” He nodded in agreement. “Deal.” She shook his hand, and he flew off behind the bar to go get something. As he floated back he had out the two room keys for her. She put them in her pocket, so grateful that Pirpak seemed to be asleep from being carried around. He flew over the bar, leading her over to the stage and behind the curtain. He led her to the backstage area where there was a rack off clothes, behind a set of dividers and she rolled her eyes at seeing the revealing outfits. He called out a name, a small older Rodian female with yellow skin coming. The Toydarian and the Rodian spoke, and she still didn’t know what they were saying, but she figured this woman was the costumer that would be adjusting the outfits to her body. Her suspicions were confirmed as the rodian woman looked her over, taking a scanner and asking in broken basic for her to take off the bag. Andora gently put her bag with him down on a large chair, unstrapping her flute so the woman could use the scanner for her measurements. 

“Okay, I leave, you get measured, and you come in 4 standard hours for practice before we open for the night.” Andora nodded as he flew away, the Rodian asking her to take off her clothes to get accurate measurements. Andora stripped her shirt off and set the blade down, the Rodian telling her to unbind her breasts or the tops won’t fit. Making sure the dividers were closed so they were alone she unbound her breasts. Holding her arms out she felt a little gross as the scanner took her measurements, the Rodian woman noticing the faint scarring around her hips. 

“You cover for shows.” She said as she pointed to the scars. Andora just nodded. The Rodian told her to remove her pants for more measurements, it made her uncomfortable, but it was too late now. Sliding out of the pants, the Rodian gasped in shock as she saw the heavy scarring on Andora’s left thigh. To her the sigil was a source of pride, but the creature it was of was really unpleasant to see. She had only shown this sigil to other Mandalorians or to her Barabel friends. Due to her healing power it had taken a lot of effort to damage the skin to the point where the brand would stick. “I cover.” Was all the Rodian could say as she took the measurements, she must have made the assumption it was a punishment from a gang. The scar had slowly been healing over the last 16 years, but it still made people uncomfortable. When she was done Andora quickly put her clothes back on, ready to go grab something to eat and hopefully meet up with Mando. 

She went back to the first street she had walked down, sitting in a booth at a less busy bistro, Pirpak finally able to get out of the bag, and he seemed ready to eat after his nap. The noodles were spicy and she slurped them greedily as she comforted her nerves. She was a mix of excited and nervous about the work she had found for herself. Singing would be fun, but the idea of being in something revealing was a tad uncomfortable. Her fingers ran through her hair, and as she looked at the cobalt blue locks she thought back to the dresses, the color of one dress had caught her eye. It would be a change, she had never tried it before. Eventually Mando came to meet them, her meal was already finished, Pirpak had eaten just a plain bowl of noodles, and she had ordered him a meal to go. She had three hours to get herself ready for tonight. He didn’t say anything to her as she stood up and he slung Pirpak’s bag onto his shoulders, her carrying the food as they left onto the street. She pulled out a room key from her pocket, handing it to him. He looked at it before tucking it away. 

“I got a singing gig at the lounge next to the hotel. I have rooms there till their normal singer comes back or I decide to leave. Free food and drinks. And 250 credits for each night.” Andora was looking around as they walked towards the ship, trying to find a store for her to buy hair color, and maybe get her nails done. 

“You could have gotten more pay and we just stay on the Razor Crest.” He sounded a little defensive. 

“It’s easier for me to have the room, otherwise I have to walk between the ship and the lounge at night. And it’ll have a bathtub so I can soak when I want.” Her hands were playing with her hair, wondering if she needed to restyle it. 

“Why separate rooms? It took more out of your pay.” He didn’t like that she was literally putting space between them. 

“So you can rest with your helmet off. You’re working too, and need some space to relax. I know it’s hard for me and the kid to always be hanging around and you have to wait for us before taking care of yourself.” The fact she did it for his comfort was...it eased his dissatisfaction about it. “Any luck with the guild?” 

“A couple of easy pucks, could have taken higher paying ones but it would take more time and off world runs.” He patted the pouch at his belt where he had them stored. “Since you got rooms, we may as well get the ship checked over before heading out.” 

“Do you think you can take him for the rest of today? I was going to get ready for the show and I don’t want to bore him with the errands.” Her eyes turned to look at his visor with a small smile, and he nodded. He put Pirpak on the ground, the toy and the food stored in the bag. His own intimidating presence was enough to clear a path for Pirpak to walk safely anyway. “I’ll check with you after the show, or if you need me sooner. The comm link.” With a sigh she took her credit pouch to pay for what she needed. “I hope it's not too embarrassing tonight. I haven’t performed in years.” He didn’t say anything as she walked away, following after Pirpak since he had already decided on a hunt to do tonight. He guess he should head over to the hotel to check his room, eat, and settle Pirpak for the night. 

* * *

Din had checked both the rooms. Their rooms connected by a door in the wall, their rooms small but there was more space in each room than they had in the ship. Pirpak was bouncing on the bed, his stuffed animal jingling and he was playing with the remote for the display screen. He ate the food in the other room, thinking that she had been right, the food was cold. He put his helmet back on, throwing his trash away and he wondered if she would come back before the show tonight. Pulling out his pucks he was looking for which ones he was thinking he could accomplish without being gone for too long. Would Pirpak be okay if both of them were gone? 

He shook his head. He used to leave the kid alone for long periods of time before, and this was a fairly safe place. Standing up he patted the kid on the head, telling him to be good while he was gone before exiting the hotel to track down the debtor. He could hear the faint sounds of music from next door as the lounge band and Andora practiced. Guns in place, armor secured, and the freedom of being responsible for just himself. Outside the Motel he pulled the fob from the pouch. Not too far away. He marched confidently off after the first target, unconcerned about what the consequences would be for them once turned over. He had a job to do. The man he was pursuing was hiding in the lower end side of town, the plaster of the buildings old and peeling away, the paved streets cracked and plant life growing within them. It was barely enough to call it a hunt as he pushed in the door to the older building open, the abandoned home was burned out inside, and judging from the trash those that stayed here were using death sticks. His boots crushed everything he stepped on, his visor showing him a body heat signature was in the closet, him throwing it open and gun raised. Target found. This barely counted as a tracking job, but he had the target, and he could get paid for it. He ignored the man’s pleas, cuffing the man and dragging the man easily back towards the guild building that was across from the courthouse. Unlike Nevarro this guild headquarters was an actual office since the courthouse and police stations nearby kept a fairly constant stream of jobs coming in. 

It was an easy 300 credits. It had taken no time at all, the sun had barely set. With a sigh he pulled out another puck and fob, frustrated by the fact it was still fairly close. Why were so many pucks available for these kinds of low level targets? Surely rookie hunters could be building their reputations here. Hunting such easy targets was a bit beneath him, but the Razor Crest could do with some full repairs. As much as it wounded his pride he needed to keep the ship in running condition, if something went wrong the kid might… Pushing responsibility from his head he stalked off into the crowded city, following the beeping to the next target. Since these people had all been through the courthouse they had fobs. This one was as disappointing as his prior, the elderly man watching the animals racing, his tattered clothing and disheveled appearance making it a bit harder for Din. The older man saw the shiny reflection in the glass dividers, turning to look with a gulp, his betting slips still in his hands as he looked into the visor. 

“No please...please don’t…I have three more races.” With a heavy sigh Din reached out and gripped the older man by his arm. With firm pressure he escorted the elderly man back outside. Not seeing the need for cuffs, but hoping it was the courthouse this man was being turned over too instead of a loan shark. He was sick, still thinking more about his races than on the fact he was being taken in. Din felt that the 100 credits for the old man was a good sign. If it was more he would have been concerned. 

After four more unfulfilling hunts he walked away with 1,500 credits, but it certainly did not feel good. The guild master was congratulating him on the record number of turn ins, but it all felt so off. He had emptied the pucks he had picked up and yet he felt like he had accomplished nothing. Like he had been playing a game and the house was letting him win. When offered more pucks Din declined for the night, walking back towards the space port and depositing the payment for having an organic mechanic work on the ship. It took all his credits, but he somehow felt better without the weight of the credits in his pouch. The moon was reaching the halfway point in the sky, and he was really feeling like a drink. He returned to the motel, checking on the kid only to find him passed out in the dead center of the bed, the blankets tossed to the ground or wrapped around him like a nest, his stuffed animal cuddled close and the screen on what looked like children’s show as it was soft passive tones and bright colorful cheery images. 

Knocking on the dividing door he waited, not hearing a response and he opened the door, finding it empty. Re-securing the rooms he decided enough was enough. She was working much too hard for less money than he had made in the same amount of time. Entering the lounge he found the room was slightly smoky from the cigars and similar items in the room. The stage was currently dark, the room filled with dim chatter as the band played softly. He was about to go march backstage to retrieve her when the room lights dimmed, and the stage light came back on. He was being irrational, it was not even midnight local time, and of course it took her longer today, she had to learn new songs and practice. After today it would be more reasonable. He let himself take a seat at an empty booth in the back, pulling out his room key and ordering his drink to his room. The woman taking his order looked a bit confused by the request but took his room key to charge it. The band returned to the stage, starting up the music. He didn’t bother to un-filter the notes. He was here to make sure she was okay, not relax. 

The song notes filled the lounge, the curtain parting slowly and a woman with deep crimson red hair walked out in a red dress that was just as shocking as her hair. The fabric shimmered and clung to the woman’s body in ways that seemed impossible. When the woman stepped forward there was whistling from the crowd as the dress revealed a slit in the right side that went tantalizingly high, all the way to her hip, and it looked like it should showcase her body in lewd ways. The woman was wearing heels that made her legs look so long, but the flash of skin was gone as quickly as it came with her next step. Her arms encased in long gloves that seemed to match the shimmery sheer quality of the dress in a deeper violet color. As she was fully under the spotlight he knew that everyone even without his helmet’s sensors could see that the fabric was much more gossamer in the skirt than should be allowed. The top held up under the fabric by a firm corset. The woman started to sing, her eyes opening to meet with the crowd. His heart stopped and his fists clenched at seeing green eyes and hearing a familiar voice. 

Andora was the woman in the red dress, her steps flashing her leg and as she turned to sing to other parts of the room he saw the back of the dress was so low that it rested above the curve of her bottom. The back of the dress was secured with shimmering threads that invited the eyes to trace the curve of her spine. Her voice was rich, seductive even as she rolled through the song. Din could hear the slight breathiness from the corset restricting her breathing but the way it sounded could be taken into a very different context. If he had not been wearing gloves he wondered if his nails would have dug into his skin as he watched her end the song and the lights dim, hearing the excited chatter of the other patrons, some impressed with her voice throughout the night, some saying she was not as good as their usual performer, others saying how good the food and drinks were tonight. Standing up once more he walked briskly towards the stage. 

“Hey hey, you don’t come in my business and just go harass my performers.” Before he could get up to the stage the Toydarian flew up, blocking his way. Din didn’t bother to answer, just turning the glare of his helmet on the flying male and continuing up onto the stage and behind the curtain. Andora was chatting excitedly with the musicians, laughing and smiling, the musicians congratulating her on a successful first set. They dropped silent as they caught sight of him marching up behind Andora, her turning to look. Her heels put her much closer to eye level with him, but he still had some height on her, his aura was dark and imposing to the others around them, but she just smiled up to him. She had a small bag in her hands, it was her clothes from earlier that day.

“Mando, I just finished for the night. Did you get a chance to catch any of the show?” What he had been about to say was interrupted by the Toydarian who flew up. 

“You know him?” There was a nervous note in his voice, Din able to hear upset whispers from another male nearby about her being taken for the night. His blood boiled, they had planned on trying to seduce her or worse, sell her.

“He’s why I needed another room. I’ll see you all tomorrow evening.” She said calmly to the Toydarian and the musicians, her moving to stand closer to Din. Din put his cloak around her, seeing her happily take the fabric as he started to lead her out the back door. He led her back into the motel, her leaning gratefully against him as they went down to the rooms. He opened her room, checking on the kid in his and seeing he was still sound asleep. In her room she moaned as she slipped out of the punishing heels, picking up the skirt of the dress and moving towards the bathroom to start a bath for herself. “How did your night go?” 

“The ship is getting a full check.” He was trying to keep his voice calm. “You’re showing a lot of skin.” 

“I thought so too at first but it's just for the one song, the other stuff was a bit more coverage. Plus it feels kind of nice to wear, I haven't had that much attention since I was at university.” He could hear the faucet turn on and he smelt lavender and rose scents. “I had a lot of fun tonight, but good lord I forgot how much I hate heels.” She came back into the room, her lack of heels making her shorter and he could see down the valley of her breasts in the overly sexual top. She removed the gloves and laid them out on the desk, him standing there in the center of her room as she got herself ready to relax. “Oh, you never had a chance to answer, did you catch any of the show?” She was sounding hopeful as she turned to him with a smile while removing the earrings he hadn’t even noticed. Her eyebrows were back to a natural brown color but the red locks were absolutely scandalous. 

“You were good.” His voice dropped a little rougher. She seemed to finally notice his stiff stance, a concerned look on her face. “The outfit compliments your body.” He watched her turn pink as he let his gaze run over her body, giving her the courtesy of his helmet moving to let her feel his eyes. “So you are done with this now?” 

“I liked singing, and I want to sing again. It's just a few nights.” She squared her shoulders. “We are equals right? You are working your job, I am working mine.” 

“I made more credits in one night than you will in four days. It's not necessary for you to dress like this.” His hands wanted to rest on her hips and pull her closer. It hadn't come out as he planned, he didn't want her to be exploited by the lounge but he had just hurt her pride. 

“I am not a child. I could have refused the dress and wore a different one. I liked the attention tonight, felt good to know I'm still attractive. Maker knows it's been a while.” He noticed that her nails were painted a glossy pink as she pointed her finger into his chest plate.

“They were ogling you up there. Are you sure that's the attention you want?” His gloved hand wrapped around her wrist gently, pulling it from his armor. He heard her soft gasp, looking into her face to see the way her lips parted. “I could hear a very disappointed patron when I walked up to you. He had been hoping to buy you for the night.” His voice dropped lower as her green eyes looked up into his visor. His fingers gently squeezed her wrist, her lips parted more. “He thinks I'm paying for your body right now. That you're a commodity to be bought and sold. That you're advertising your companionship as you sing, their thoughts on how you might sound ‘singing’ for them.” He felt her body tremble at his words, not entirely sure if he was saying this as a warning anymore as the thoughts of her lips turned lustful. “Is that really the idea you want them to have about you? That they could buy a night with you Andora?” He nearly growled her name, but he didn't dare touch her more than her wrist. 

Part of her knew he was trying to genuinely warn her about the danger of being a woman in this position but...the words coming from him, her own crush on him, the fact it had been eight years since she last spent the night with anyone but her own fingers and a dirty book. She twisted her wrist in his grip, testing it, crying out softly as he squeezed a little harder to keep it in place. He had said he had made more credits, and all the talk of buying, and her own dirty mind, she had to ask. 

“Would you buy a night with me?” It was in no way an answer to his question but she almost couldn't help herself. “Do you want to make me ‘sing’ for you?” He squeezed her wrist a little firmer, his other hand reaching up to her hair, running his fingers through the red locks. 

“Elek.” (Yes) The way he growled it as he tightened his grip on her was possessive and needy. He made her look into his visor, his body pressing closer. “What do you want? I don't want you to just obey.” He would loath himself if he ever doubted her consent to this. She pressed back to him, her face flushed and she felt her heart pounding wildly in her chest. 

“I want to sing for you Mando, I want to feel you inside of me.” She begged him, and he dropped his hand from her wrist to her waist, gripping her firmly and pressing her tightly to himself. She felt something hard against her, a loud gasp as she remembered he did not wear a codpiece. That was all him pressed against her. 

“I am not gentle. I might hurt you.” He groaned as he pressed her closer. “Ni kapr emuurir kadala gar.” (I might like hurting you.) He was feeling all his body on fire under his armor. It had been so long since he dared trust himself with another lover.

“I might like it when you do. Sulye saryr an, bic b shi aaray.” (After all, it's only pain.) She cried out as he tugged her hair, his eyes watching the way her breasts were crushed to his chestplate. She caught her breath and pressed against his hips more. 

“Buy'ce temya'r.” (The helmet stays.) He grunted as he pushed her back to emphasize his point. 

“Miak taylir beskar'gam bat mr.” (Then keep the armor on too.) She took a moment to step back. Her skin flushed, and she knew she was already wet for him. He seemed to be the one that trembled now, his hands reaching for her. “Lock the door.” He turned on his heel so quickly as Andora went to the bathroom and turned off the tub. She looked in the mirror, about to wash away her makeup when he came in behind her. 

“Leave it.” He hissed into her ear, pressing her against the counter. “I am paying for how you looked on stage, remember,” She moaned at the heated tone in his voice and pressed against him. “Go put the heels back on.” He didn't move away from her body, making her grind along him to go do what he asked. He waited till she was gone before he pulled himself out of his pants, washing himself off for her. Satisfied he just tucked himself back in, not bothering with zipping up. She was back in the heels, and he tilted his head, exaggerating his gaze since she couldn't see his face. His hands removed his gloves slowly as he let her wait on his move. He had to remove his gauntlets, there were too many weapons on them for this, an accidental brush as they moved together and terrible things might happen. He moved forward, his hand running up her right leg along the slit in the dress, feeling her skin against his. He wrapped his other arm around her waist to steady her as he brought her leg up to rest on his hip. “I can't believe how high you let this go, I swore that I should have seen the strap of your panties at some point.” He felt her tremble as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. His hand reached the top of the slit, and started to glide across her ass, still finding nothing but soft skin. 

“Oh you filthy slut.” He groaned out as his bare fingers moved further between her legs and instead of finding any fabric were greeted by the heat of her core, his fingers barely brushing the soft folds and coming away with her juices. “All the males at the tables just below you on the stage could have seen you.” He was a mix of lustful need at finding her so ready, and jealous that it was true. “No wonder they want to buy you, you paraded yourself like a harlot.” Andora gasped at his harsh words, but it only made her press closer, rubbing herself against his fingers. “Like a loth-cat in heat, shameless. If it wasn't me tonight I bet I would still hear you moaning from next door.” His jealousy and the way she played into the game only made him feel like being rougher. He dipped a single finger inside her, groaning at how tight she was, her walls so warm and wet. Din could feel her trying to squeeze it, swirling it inside of her and feeling her struggle to stay standing in the heels. He pulled out his finger and brought it to her mouth, gripping her hair and tugging it with his other so she would look up from where she had buried her face in his shoulder. “Tell me how you taste.” He was panting as he brought his finger to her lips, watching her red painted lips part, her pink tongue swirling around and licking herself from him. 

“A little sweet, maybe like a lick on a sugared lemon.” She was clutching him as his words and actions absolutely had her aching for him. He dipped his finger back inside of her, swirling it around, like collecting a sweet from the bottom of the container. Her juices were glistening on his tan skin as he brought it up to his helmet, and he slipped it underneath the helmet and she wailed softly as she heard him suck his finger through the modulator. 

“Lie on your back.” He growled and she slid down his body to obey, her chest strained against the top of the dress as she looked up at him looming over her. His hands ran down her thighs to her ankles, squeezing firmly at the pressure points, his suspicions that she enjoyed the feel confirmed as she moaned for him. He slowly raised her legs, gently urging her to bend her knees as he moved her ankles on the bed. She was blushing as he was now between her thighs, the dress skirt wide open and if he looked down he would see everything. He brought her hands down to her ankles, and without a word he pulled out cuffs. The pair was silent except for their panting breaths as he secured her wrists to her ankles, each time the cuffs had clicked as they locked made her shiver. “This dress clings to you like a second skin. I'm not even sure how to get it off you. It's so tight.” He let his hands grope her chest roughly, feeling her breasts and moaning at how they were so large they overflowed his hands. How she bound them down to be so flat while they were out in the jungle he didn't know. “I might just have to rip it off.” He growled as he squeezed just a little harder, her soft flesh so malleable to his touch. 

“No...if it gets ruined it comes out of my pay.” She whined loudly as he squeezed her breasts harder and he pushed against her open center, her hands trying to come up and stop him but only feeling the resistance of the cuffs. He groaned at her protest, his helmet resting against the side of her face as his hands squeezed her breasts firmly, his fingers gripping the top of the dress. 

“I can afford it.” He growled, listening to her gasp and feeling her body rock up towards him, stopping for a moment so if she really wanted to stop him she could escape her cuffs. “Patya?” (Stop?) She shakes her head, her hips rocking up to him. She whispers for him to keep going. He drags his hand down the front of her dress and then it moves to the hostler at his calf for his knife, and he carefully makes a cut in the corset between her breasts. He skillfully twists the blade where she can see before sliding it back into its holster. He lets his hand slide back up to the top, gently rubbing his fingers over her skin before gripping her top, a hand on each side of the cut. He sits up to look down at her face, making sure she is looking at him. “Just like I can afford you.” He rips the corset apart and stares openly at her heaving chest. She was moaning as he openly ogled her chest. Din wished his helmet was off so he could taste the hard nipples, but he settled for pinching them softly at first, twisting them a little more, watching her reactions and feeling himself throb in his pants. Andora moaned loudly, and he did let the full sound of her voice through his filters. He reached down and finished shredding the fabric keeping the dress around her body, leaning further back to take a look at all over her. His hands rested on her knees, keeping her legs open, seeing the glistening pink folds between her thighs, but he groaned as he saw that she had a small tattoo. Of course she would have something so sacrilegious on her body. His fingers moved down to trace the very familiar image. “Tion'jor malyasa'yr gar narir ibic olar?” (Why would you put this here?) He was breathing heavily, and he couldn’t stand the discomfort anymore, opening his belt and pulling himself from his pants, enjoying the shocked look on her face at his size. “Gar kar'taylir biai ta'hye ibic aliik cuyir.” (You know how sacred this symbol is.) The Mythasour skull was the sigil of all their people, and yet she had it tattooed above her sex. He pushed his pants down till his thigh plates prevented him from pushing them further without taking the armor off. “Biai olar?” (Why here?) She was blushing and trembling under him, his hand running down her left thigh, tracing her branded sigil as his other hand traced the tattooed skull. 

“Jorcu shi Mando'ade malyasa'yr cuyir gotal'ur ogir.” (Because only Mandalorians will be made there.) She screamed out in a mix of pain and pleasure as he thrust inside her. He fed his cock to her tight pussy without any hesitation, his hands gripping her hips as he curled over her body, his helmet resting against her forehead. He held himself still as she stretched to him, her knees pressed against his sides as she was overwhelmed by the sudden fullness his large cock made her feel, he was so deep, so wide, and she felt a slight sting that was being eased as he let her stretch around him, his hands caressing her sides as he tried to calm his breathing. 

“Sirbur er emuurir ibac. Er bid…” (Saying something like that. Something so…) He was caressing her sides, pushing his armored body to her nude one beneath him, taking heaving breaths as he feels her insides squeeze and stretch around him. His hand comes to her slit, gently stroking her to help keep her wet as he lets her adjust. He hadn’t meant to thrust so hard but hearing her say that to him had snapped his control. “Ni hwa nalr gar shi par sirbur er emuurir ibac.” (I should breed you just for saying something like that.) The volume of her moan as he said that only encouraged him to press his fully armored weight more onto her bound body. 

“Narir va gotal'ur srusala emuurir ibac.” (Don't make promises like that.) She begged him softly as he pressed into her, her nails digging into her hands as her hips bucked up into his body, feeling chilled from the beskar as it pressed into her and yet could feel his body heat like a fire between her legs. “Ni malyasa'yr va shukur pakod. Gedet'ye, gedet'ye nari Mando.” (I won't break easily. Please, please move Mando.) Din brought his hand and gripped her hair, forcing her to look at his helmet as he gripped her hip with his other hand. 

“Din. Ner gai cuyir Din.” (My name is Din.) She wasn’t breeding with an ideal Mandalorian from her fantasies. She was impaled on his cock, and he would have her call his name. He punctuated each word with a thrust into her wet folds. He felt her hands wrap around his shoulders, gripping his palandrons as her legs wrapped around his hips. He could feel the cuffs still around her ankles as she locked her legs around him, the points of her heels stabbing at his back. He reached back, tossing the cuffs and heels off her before he started up a rough pace, her body writhing under him as he filled her with every last inch of his cock. He looked between their bodies, watching her body swallow him each and every time, feeling his balls smacking against her as he pushed her into the bed, feeling her juices soak his cock and smearing over his skin as he ground into her.

“Din...Din...Oh...Din!” She was singing his name like a prayer as he pushed hard and deep, stirring her insides with his cock, listening to the glorious sounds of her wet folds sucking and swallowing his cock, the way her breath hitched when he thrust too hard and hit the very back of her channel. Andora was desperately rocking up against his hips, trying to get more and yet not be overwhelmed as the building pleasure twisted her insides in both agony and bliss. Her trying to push up into his thrusts was at once relieving that she wanted this as much as he did, and frustrating as she kept changing his angle. Din pushed with the weight of his armor to keep her still as his fingers moved to her clit, wanting to make sure that no matter what he gave her a release. “Ah!!! Ah!!!! Din! Din! Ni cuyir bid gebi... Ni copaanir at... Ni copaanir at par gar Din!” (I'm so close...I want to...I want to for you Din.) He tossed her thighs over his shoulders as he pinned her under him, her hands wildly gripping for any secure purchase against his armor as his fingers rubbed her clit while he slammed deep into her. His own climax was coming quickly as he felt her insides squeezing around his girth, milking him as he pleasured her. 

“Olaror par ni Andora. Laararir ner gai an miai at manda.” (Come for me Andora. Sing my name all the way to heaven.) His fingers rubbed harder as he tried to hit that spot that made her arch her back, feeling her insides flutter around him before squeezing tighter, her juices rushing over him as her eyes shut while she let out a strangled cry that sound like an echo of his name. He rushed after her, his hips snapping almost brutally into her own, his hands gripping her and holding her trembling body still as he soaked in the image of her pretty pink lips parted around his cock, and the sound of his name. She wanted Mandalorian children, he’d provide them. It was the delirium of lust as he let those lewd thoughts and feelings take over, hilting fully and feeling his own body come undone like a shattered piece of beskar as he released inside of her, giving her everything he had. With a shaky breath he rolled his cock a few more times into her spent body, feeling himself soften and he pulled from her thighs. The aftermath was glorious. Her body was slick with sweat, her hips bruised from his grip, and his seed dripping from her stretched entrance, her hole open almost inviting him back. If he was ten years younger he might have had the energy, but as it was he was still satisfied with his mission. He took the shredded skirt of her dress and wiped himself as clean as he could, not wanting their juices to stain his pants. He also gently wiped the mess from her own slit with the ruined garmet, pulling it from under her as she seemed limp from pleasure, her eyes a bit glazed as she still lingered in the aftermath of their climax.

He pulled the blanket around her as he went to wash up, tossing the dress to the ground. Andora had fallen asleep by the time he came back, slipping into the bed with her as he pulled her body to his side, wearing just his helmet and his under clothes. Din didn’t sleep but he rested with her next to him, groaning as the pleasure wore off and he realized, he actually would have to pay for the dress or she would be working all week to pay off sleeping with him.

* * *

Chapter End 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please leave a review so I know what is working and not working. 
> 
> I really enjoyed this chapter because a lot of things in the erotic scene relate back to things that were going on between them throughout the prior chapters.


	11. Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut in this chapter.

His fingers were gently running along the scar tissue of her sigil, her body curled into his side as she slept peacefully. He took his time looking at the image. The head was an elongated oval like shape, three circles along the top of the skull reminded him of eyes, the opening of the creature’s fanged mouth seemed to be almost the full length of its skull, and a tentacle-like tongue hanging out. The pale skin suddenly was interrupted by the scar, the scarification looked painful, and having seen her body recover and regrow smooth skin from horrible damage, he could only imagine what she put herself through to attain it. The mythosaur skull tattoo was smooth, soft, and pleasant to look at for more than its location. It must have been done by an actual artist, and he wondered what strange trick of her magic accounted for the difference. Din was tempted to take off his helmet and allow himself some rest but he couldn’t show his face. He felt the need to stay by her side after sleeping together, not wanting her to wake up alone, sore, and with a debt. 

“I can wear a blind fold if you want.” She looked up at him with a sleepy smile, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before she sat up. He noticed her lipstick staining his skin as she did. 

“Was it that obvious?” 

“A little, you feel tired and frustrated. Plus you have been tracing my sigil for like an hour. It’s flattering that you aren’t grossed out, but it is starting to tickle.” She scooted back towards the center of the bed when she noticed how close to the edge she had pushed him. “Or I can put on something and go sleep with Pirpak next door and you get the room to yourself. That had kinda been the plan before we got all...yeah.” Her body arched against the bed sheets, and he was tempted to touch again, see if they could engage in just a little more intimacy. 

“You won’t be hurt?” He felt a bit colder as she moved away.

“Well...I’m a fast healer, so no matter how good you are, I will be able to walk to the next room.” She teased, seeming to be getting up to grab some clothes to wear to bed. He wasn’t sure she had understood. He moved to join her once more in the center of the bed, his hand on her shoulder to stop her. “Din?” She said his name softly like a whisper, not sure if she was allowed to use it now outside the context of sex. 

“Do you trust me enough to do that?” 

“Yes.” Not a shred of doubt in her voice as she laid back down at his side. “I mean, I can get out of your cuffs easily, a piece of fabric on my face is not going to be that much harder. We’d both be in trouble if that was my weakness.” She was giggling at her own joke, amusing herself greatly. 

“I am extremely skilled with knots.” He said in a firm monotone, sitting up as he looked for something to use on her. He might have something in his pockets he could use. 

“Do you have proof?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him in the darkness of the room, but his night vision caught it, and he sighed good naturedly. He found his pants, pulling the linen out and returning to her on the bed. She closed her eyes and offered her head up, his hands wrapping it around her, checking he wasn’t too tight before securing the knot. Her hand reached up tentatively to the knot, impressed by what she felt. “Okay, that’s actually a really good knot. I hold you responsible for taking it off.” She flopped her head back onto her pillow, her blindfolded face looking up at him from the bed, and he wondered if she actually couldn’t see. He gently moved a hand towards her face, watching as her lips turned into a frown as his fingers got closer, she tried to push into her pillow. “What are you moving towards my face?” 

“Why can you see it?” He caressed her face, his fingers in her hair as he enjoyed the contact. 

“Because I can still feel you with my magic. With the blindfold on it's like...like darkness, but you and I are lights, and I can feel your light moving towards my face.” She was leaning into the way his fingers tugged her hair, his calloused fingers catching on the strands but she wasn’t telling him to stop.

“What colors are our lights?” He asked slowly, pulling his helmet off, setting it to the side and laying down with her. She curled her back towards him now, his arm draped across her hip as she pulled the blanket around herself, still cold even with his added heat. 

“Pirpak is like a bright white light, it's much bigger than either of ours, but in his tiny shape. You...it's odd, when I was meditating your light was hard to read, but right now...like this, I see your light as...well like rich purple, deeper in blue than red. It's...really nice.” He pulled her closer, turning her so he would stop getting her hair in his face. She didn’t protest, and he did like the soft flesh of her breasts pressed to his chest. “When you wear armor it's like...I know you are there...but I can’t really see you that well.” 

“What color is your light?” He let his hands trace up and down her spine. 

“My light...it's…I don’t know if it’s a good one.” He poked his fingers into her side as a prod to answer the question. Andora sighs at his insistence about getting the answer. “My brother was green, same as my dad.” Din pressed his fingers into her side again, her left hand swatting at him lightly. 

“Andora...I don’t know what is and isn’t a good color for your light to be.” He let his eyes drift close, feeling her breathing against him. Her left hand gripped his own hand as a silent gesture of thanks. She was the one tracing her fingers along his arm now, not going beneath his shirt, but she felt his scars still, tracing them as he had her sigil. “It’s a rough life out here.” She hummed her agreement, he could feel her drifting off as her fingers slowed in their tentative traces, her breathing soft again, but her body shifting to be comfortable against his frame. He shifted as well, pulling his arm from under her so it wouldn’t go numb but he didn’t move far from her. 

* * *

Din was up first. Slowly he extracted himself from the bed, stretching his back before moving into the bathroom, locking the door while taking his helmet with him. His beard was a bit fuller than he liked, and he noticed the smeared lipstick stains on his neck and chest from her burying her face into him. He cleaned the helmet first, getting the interior sanitized. On the ship he would need to re-tune some of the scanners. He pulled his clothes off and started up a cold shower, using the soap in the room to scrub down. Being clean was the best way to avoid getting sick from the kinds of things that liked to grow in unkempt armor. The scars on his body were numerous but aged, the newer ones few and far between. Bruises were the most common injuries at this stage in his career. As he scrubbed his mind drifted back to the night before. She had been such an eager partner, her voice calling his name, her body clutching him tightly till he gave her everything he had. 

What would happen now? He had to admit to himself now that his choice to stop being her commander had been a tiny bit influenced by his physical attraction to her. Her health was still a good chunk of his reasoning, but it had been a factor. It had felt good to finish with a partner after such a long time without. His tongue traced his lips as he thought back on how her juices had tasted sweet just like she said, and if not for the helm he would have helped himself to more of her.

Andora heard Pirpak calling for them from next door, trying to open her eyes only to find that she couldn’t. Her hand reached up, finding the blindfold. She could hear Din in the shower, knowing he wouldn’t be ready soon. She gingerly extracted herself from the bed, feeling around for her clothing bag and pulling on panties and a shirt, awkwardly, but she was pretty confident she had done it right. With her body covered she made her way towards the door, following Pirpak’s light, her hands waving out to find the edges of the furniture. She found the door, finding that it was cracked open and she entered, closing the door behind her as she reached up to her blindfold. Her fingers tugged at the fabric, unable to find the weakness in the knot. Well...guess she was getting some unexpected Force practice today. 

“Anra...Katlaye.” (Hungry) She followed his light towards the bed, smiling softly as his tiny frame rushed up and cuddled her. “Food.” Andora held him against her hip as she bounced him a little bit. 

“Okay little guy, let me call for something to eat.” She used the bed as her guide to get to the call button for service. She ordered the three of them food, Pirpak grabbing the remote and turning on the holoscreen. The channel he had been watching on still, a more energetic children’s show though at this time of day. Eventually the shower turned off, while a knock came on the room door. Standing she once more felt her way to the door, opening it for the server to bring the tray in. They asked if she wanted the beer outside the door still, telling them to take it as she closed the door again. She felt Din’s light get dimmer, figuring he must have put his armor back on now. Sure enough the door opened as he came to join them in the room. “Wanna eat?” Din looked over and chuckled at her wearing the blindfold and the baggy nightshirt, her hair a wild mess. 

“I’m covered again. You can take it off.” He sat down, helping Pirpak with his meal, the kid eating a fairly good chunk of the eggs and toast with his clawed hands.

“We’re in trouble.” She pouted at him playfully, trying to tug the knot free but it remained firmly in place. “It’s fine though, I’m not that big on breakfast, so you can eat first.” 

“Want me to feed you so you’ll eat?” 

“I don’t eat meat for breakfast.” She was blushing at the comment, grateful she couldn’t see his reaction. She could hear him take a deep breath, Pirpak’s show playing in the background. 

“I’m leaving that on you till you learn some self control.” His voice was warm, rich, and she wanted to hear more of it.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Andora said in mock disbelief. Hand to her chest as she ‘looked’ offended. 

“The kid is right here.” She tilted her head at him, her fingers pointing at the blindfold. “You said your magic lets you see him, so you should know better.” He tugged the knot of the blindfold till she was closer to him. “Control yourself.”

“Tonight, after my show...will you come get me? I don’t want to risk someone asking for me.” She asked him with a soft blush on her cheeks, pressing herself into his hand. Andora wasn’t actually worried, but she had enjoyed the results last time.

“I’m your bodyguard, if you want me to come protect you, I will.” His fingers tangled in her hair. Pirpak was nibbling his food as he watched the adults before turning his eyes back to the screen where the colors were moving excitingly as the funny voices talked. 

“Can I be with you again?” She asked him softly, a breathiness to her voice. He watched her bite her lip as she ‘looked’ at where she thought he was. 

“Control yourself. You’ll have to watch the kid while I go earn some more credits.” He gently tugged her hair before pulling the blindfold off of her face. As she opened her eyes she felt them adjust to the sudden change in light, seeing his visor. “You were expensive.” He enjoyed the blush he caused on her face. Nodding her head Andora watched him stand up and get himself sorted out for work. 

“If you need help, let me know.” She offered, and he gave her a small nod. Andora took over for helping the kid eat, wiping his hands and setting the food on the small counter, standing to nibble her own meal. Din took his plate next door, eating quickly before he called out he was leaving, watching her re-secure the rooms before leaving them. She looked at both rooms, sighing at the mess. Cleaning up the mess in the kid’s room seemed like the more effective use of her time, Pirpak chattering at the screen as the children’s show asked questions. He was still gripping his stuffed toy as she cleaned around him, only getting fussy as she moved him to make the bed. Could she have called for housekeeping, yes, but that meant prolonged amounts of time with a stranger in the rooms.

She answered him when he turned his attention to her, and she was so proud of his progress in talking, getting simple enough two word commands across to her and Din. Her mind wandered to his name, turning it over in her mind as she added it to what she knew about him. It was a well suited name for him. It was to the point, strong start with a soft end, and gave away little. With a satisfied sigh she looked around the room, it was clean, back in place, and Pirpak was playing with his toy as music played on the screen with the show over. Opening the door to the other room she moved to fix the bed, noticing that the red dress was gone. She wondered what he must have done with it. Her room needed much less work to organize, and leaving the door between the rooms open she returned to the bathroom where she drained the cold water in the tub and started filling it fresh, adding her scented oils to the water to relax with.

Robe set nearby in case she had to rush out Andora stripped down and soaked in the water, looking over the fading marks from Din. She kind of wished she could pause her healing to keep the marks longer, but it was not possible. Her hands moved to the scars on her lower back. These were the only things she could not heal properly. The durgolosk venom was effective at eating away soft flesh, giving her the disadvantage while hunting it compared to her barabel comrades with their scaled bodies. She soaked until the steaming hot water subsided into lukewarm, scrubbing herself clean before pulling the plug. The robe was actually kind of nice, soft, fluffy, and warm. She pulled on clean undergarments but stayed in the robe as she returned to play with the kid and his toy. 

* * *

Din was back at the headquarters of the guild, seeing other hunters in here, noting their disheveled look and the smell of booze drifting from a couple of them. The night manager must have left a note about him as the woman behind the counter called him over ahead of the waiting others. Standing at the counter she pulled out a large assortment of pucks, letting him take his pick. A shiver went down his spine at seeing Andora being among the pucks, thankfully still listed as location unknown and as alive only to claim the 500,000 credits.

“I am looking on the planet only right now, my ship is getting a full repair.” He spoke as he put her puck and a few other higher paying ones back. He took the lot of bail skippers all still on the planet. 

“Well it's not guild work but if you want the higher pay without going off world…” She leaned over to him, dropping her voice lower. “There is a Hutt coming on world tomorrow to watch the Battle Child Orchestra, lots of spare time and credits, he is a collector. He pays for protection and for additions to his collection.” 

“What kinds of things does he collect?” Something didn't sit right about this. 

“I don't know exactly what, the hunters that work for him say it's just old art and data. They don't care to ask much. Just know that the Hutt pays way less for damaged goods.” She picked up a few more on world pucks for him. “Want me to pass up your chain code?” 

“Just a single use chip to call.” 

“If you are sure.” She printed off the chip for him, pocketing the other for the Hutt’s people. “Happy Hunting.” Din felt a few eyes on his beskar, hand resting on the blaster, cloak pushed back so they understood he would not be a quick payday. The hunts were easier than before, most of them sleeping off their sorrows. It was so repetitive, but it was also filling up his credit pouch. Of the ten he started with, the 6 he turned in were making sure he would be able to restock his baca supplies, buy more rations, and pay for the ruined dress. Having started his hunts in the morning he was looking at the afternoon with 4 still waiting for him. He stopped by the ship to check the progress, seeing his weapon locker still unopened and her relic still safe inside. He changed out his weapons, more out of boredom than anything else. 

He felt like he had seen the whole city as night fell and he dragged in his tenth catch, the woman sobbing about how rough he was with her. Demanding that she speak with the person in charge for him so rudely interrupting her dinner with the zebrakian she was working for. Din collected his last payment for the night, uninterested in the outcome now that his part was over. Courthouse wanted her back, now they had her. He spent the credits on the supplies, adding them to the ship. He couldn't wait to get back to her and fly off. There was no further procrastination he could do but hunt more of the easy prey. He walked towards the hotel, checking on Pirpak. Entering the room he was surprised to find it mostly intact. Pirpak was wearing clean clothes, healthy snacks left out with a sippy cup, and the kid had another toy. Unlike the multitectacled creature this one was a stuffed humanoid with fabric cut into makeshift armor. Andora was not in either room, and checking the time she had a few more hours. Pirpak was giggling as his clawed hands tried to move the large dolls. Hearing Din come back his eyes lit up and he excitedly called for him.

“Sayr play.” There was no way for Din to ignore that command, coming to sit on the floor with Pirpak who was showing off his new toy. 

“Is that doll supposed to be me?” The tone of Din’s voice was gentle and filled with affection just for the kid. He turned the modulator off so the kid could hear him fully.

“Sayr play.” Pirpak waddled over and happily shoved the creature into Din’s hands, keeping the armored one for himself. He pointed at the creature and tried to make a growling sound that just sounded more like an upset stomach. Din took the hint, growling as he gave the creature doll a little shake, the bells jingling with the action. Pirpak took his other doll by the hand and tried to slap it into the creature doll, Din trying to not laugh as the action set the kid off balance, his other hand righting the kid and hovering nearby for support as his foundling started up a great and ferocious battle between the two dolls. Din made the monster noises as Pirpak tried to talk like a soldier, saying commands which were mostly just food and stop. The kid was getting more and more excited as they ‘battled’ over and over again, most of the time the two dolls ending up friends before starting over. The kid was levitating his doll now in excitement, giggling and looking up at Din. “Sayr fly!” The doll shook from side to side with no grace. Din felt his stomach drop as the kid chanted for him to fly, finding himself rising off the ground like the doll. Din tried to right himself and stand on the ground again but the kid was really worked up, giggling as Din floated in the middle of the room. 

“No, Sayr no fly, Sayr stand.” Din was trying to keep his voice calm but the kid just kept clapping in delight that he was making Daddy fly. “Sayr wants to come down now.” Panic was starting in his voice as the kid didn't listen, waiting for the kid to get tired wasn't working. Pirpak raised his hand higher, the doll slamming into the ceiling and Din snapped. “STOP!” The shout frightened Pirpak into stopping the game, the kid actually recoiling and waddling to hide on the other side of the bed. Din grunted as he fell to the floor, taking deep breaths to calm down. Din could hear the kid sniffling as he cried, Din’s anger draining to be left with only frustration and shame for yelling at the kid. Moving towards the kid Din felt a sharp pain as the kid recoiled from him, tears coming down from those scared brown eyes. He reached out to the kid, Pirpak not moving towards his hands. “Hey...I’m sorry for yelling. We’re okay. I’m not mad.” He was trying to be calm and unthreatening to the kid. “Sayr cuyir ni ceta, Ni malyasa'yr va briadr tug'yc.” (Dad is sorry, I won't yell again.) After a long painful stretch of time the kid timidly approached him, Din felt horrible that the kid was so scared of him. Slowly he brought the kid to his chest, holding him comfortingly as he softly reassured the kid he was sorry. The kid was still crying silently, and Din didn’t know what else to do. He put the kid in the bag and walked him towards the club. Maybe the kid would feel calmer seeing the other adult he trusted. 

Walking into the club it was much livelier than the final song the night before. Andora was singing songs that had a bouncier tune, more couples up and dancing while her voice filled the bar. Picking a booth seat Din set the kid at an angle to see Andora. She was wearing a shiny silver dress, the dress knee length but showing much of her back and arms, but the neckline an almost collar-like shape that covered her chest. He heard the way she fumbled over her notes as they settled in, her eyes started to scan the room. She must have been feeling the kid’s distress. Her eyes settled on them, and he saw the confusion pass over her face. The song came to an end, people looking displeased with the botched end of her performance. Andora walked over to the band, whispering to the band leader who looked put upon but they eventually rolled their eyes and put in a quick transition to just soft instrumentals. Silver dress shining as she disappeared behind the curtain, Din stood up to take Pirpak with him to meet her. The kid was reaching for her as if she was a rescuer, the simple act making Din more jealous than it should. 

“Meg ganar gar bid trikar'la ad'ika?” (What has you so sad little one?) She bounced him on her hip gently, looking to Din for explanation. 

“Ni briadr at kaysh. Kaysh iviye kaysh subr bal Ni ru hbaih meg at narir.” (I yelled at him. He used his powers and I didn't know what to do.) The relief that swept across her face surprised him, a soft understanding smile leaving him unsure. 

“I was worried it was something bigger. He’ll get over it. Parents get mad at their kids, it happens. Heck, I get mad at kids at work when they goof off, as long as you get back to showing him you care it will be fine.” She shifted him to the other hip as she looked at him. “Dad used to get pissed at me and Adkote all the time when we did something stupid or bad. But he still loved us. He knows you care, he’s just a bit scared because he doesn’t understand why he got in trouble.” 

“We were playing and he got excited and started treating me like his new toy.” She blushed at that. 

“I am sorry Mando. He was just so excited when he saw it and I thought it would be okay. I should have considered that he might not be able to control that excitement.” Andora was cuddling the kid close, the kid curled into her and relaxing, happy gurgles coming out. The Toydarian was flying over, looking ready to yell at her for not being on stage when he noticed the kid in her arms. “Okay little one, time to go back, I’ll try and sneak in a lullaby for you so Mando can take you for bedtime.” The kid didn’t protest, looking up at Din as if nothing had happened. Andora walked back to the Toydarian, giving as charming a smile as she could. “Sorry, I just needed to check on him. I’ll get back out now Sir.” 

“So you will be going back to your room with him tonight?” The Toydarian looked a tad bit uncomfortable with what he was asking. His energy off from what it had been earlier. It was his problem for offering her up, she had been crystal clear that she would only sing. 

“Yes I will.” Andora said matter of factly as she moved back out into the spotlight, starting up a new song with the band. 

* * *

“Commander Luast, Moff Gideon is calling.” 

“Patch him through.” Black helmet met the hologram of the Moff, the blue light reflecting off the polished surface. 

“I expect your report.” 

“We tracked them to a planet called Zeffos, they camped there and were getting help from an old colleague of hers. They are trying to find someone on the old Jedi registries. We are following their trail. His ship was last reported on Canto Bight. We will make contact with the targets when we land on the planet.” 

“Do not go on planet in an Imperial uniform. There are officials there from the New Republic and from other Imperial reminments, I do not want the attention.” Gideon thrived by working in the shadows, after all he hadn’t escaped being executed for war crimes by publicizing his moves. 

“Yes sir.” Braig could feel his trigger finger twitch. After he got the beskar location from Andora, he’d finally pay Gideon back for the Purge. “If they make a scene?” 

“Better to follow than make a scene. It’s not that backwater world he and his tribe were living on. This place has regular contact with high officials.” The transmission cut out, and Braig looked over to his fellow soldiers. 

“Shore leave when we get on world boys.” Some of the men pumped their fists with excitement at the order.

“How will we find them?” Braig tilted his helmet at his second in command and younger brother. 

“He said it was better to follow than make a scene. The Mando she is with will make a scene. Look at what happened last time, he took out the Moff’s ship. So we relax, kick back, and place a tracker on their ship or better yet steal the data off her and leave them without any clue.”

“But…” 

“Look, once we get the information we can get rid of the Moff. Ordot will be able to claim he’s the Mand’alor and because we’ll be the ones that saved the planet, we can go home. Armor and all.” 

“And then what?” Braig rolled his eyes under his helmet as he fixed his visor on Xig, not getting why his brother was being such a downer.

“Uncle Ordot is old. He’ll step down when I challenge him after he gets the star system back into step with the old ways.” Xig listened to his brother and sighed, wishing it would be that easy. His brother acted like being Mand’alor would be natural, but the galaxy wasn’t that simple anymore.

* * *

Andora was positively preening with excitement as she changed into her own clothes after the show, the Rodian dresser not willing to let her wear anything out after the dress issue this morning. Mando was leaning against the wall, waiting for her with his intimidating presence, and she ran up to him, blushing already as he led her out the back door. When they returned to the rooms he checked on the kid as she went to the bathroom and rinsed herself down, sitting on the bed in just the sheets, having stripped herself down before he even came back. He once more gave her the benefit of his head moving as he looked her over, taking his cloak off, then his gauntlets and gloves. His hands gripped her hair and tugged gently, the door between the rooms ajar so they could check on the kid. She playfully nipped at his wrist with her teeth, dragging her tongue along the blue veins before biting down gently. He gripped her locks a bit firmer and tugged her mouth away from his skin as he let his fingertips trace down the column of her throat. 

“You should have left the lipstick.” He hummed as she looked up at him with parted lips. He watched her tongue run over her bottom lip. 

“You don’t like my lips?” He watched her emotions flick across her face, his thumb moving to caress where her tongue had just been. 

“Oh I do like them, just wanted to see if you could have kissed all the way to the base.” He enjoyed the slight confusion on her face as he moved her hand to his pants, going slowly so she could stop him if she wanted. Her cheeks turned pink and her hand pressed against him through his pants, feeling his hardening length. “That lipstick stain would have been a nice souvenir.” 

“I don’t have any lipstick, but I don’t back away from a challenge.” She was rubbing along his length through the rough canvas, and he was watching as the bed sheet moved lower with just the one hand holding it in place. He squeezed her hair and she could hear him take calming breaths. 

“Ni copaanir at sur'ulur gar ekur bat ner buhr.” (I want to watch you choke on my cock.) His voice was so heated and she moved closer to him, her eyes fixated on his visor as he took his hand off hers and moved it to his belt. “Liser Ni tahla'ada ibac cataye troan be gar?” (Can I fuck that pretty face of yours?) Din groaned softly at the ‘eye’ contact. 

“Did you want to blindfold me?” She asked him softly, her face moving closer to his cock as he opened the belt and unzipped. He shivered at the suggestion, his hands pulling from her and quickly retrieving the fabric scrap he used this morning. She closed her eyes and let him blindfold her, his hands in her hair as he led her towards his hips, her hands pushing his pants open and pulling his cock out and stroking it, feeling him grow harder in her hands. He was thick, her fingers unable to touch as she wrapped them around his shaft. Her core squeezed a little at remembering how good it had felt to stretch around him. Her other hand traveled down the length of him, shivering in excitement as her hand kept going before finally reaching the base of his cock. If her healing wasn't so fast, she would have struggled to walk this morning. She wanted to be sore when he was done with her, she wanted to feel like a thoroughly claimed woman. 

Her hand at his base moved further down, hearing him hiss through the voice modulator as she pulled his heavy sac free from his pants, gently cradling them as she weighed them. They were so big, soft skin like the velvet texture of his cock, trimmed hair adding a little prickly sensation. His hands didn't stop her and she moved her thumb to rub the tip of his cock, feeling the sticky wetness of his precum. Spreading the precum on his tip she leaned forward and kissed at his exposed skin, licking along the length of a scar she found. His breathing was controlled as he let her tease him, his eyes looking between her lips kissing around where he wanted and her nude body she left on display for him when she dropped the sheet. Her tongue was teasing the base of his cock, licking around him, her face rubbing against the shaft as he kept his control. He tugged on her hair when her lips and tongue moved lower, making her stop. 

“Where are you taking that mouth of yours?” She could hear the rough edge on his voice. He wanted to put her mouth to his cock and thrust into the wet hole. Her hand tentatively squeezed around his balls, and he shivered at the unusual touch. His past bed partners ignored this part of his anatomy. 

“Can I suck on them?” He groaned at the pleading tone in her voice, she really wanted to wrap her lips around them. He had no intention of denying her when she used that kind of tone. 

“You better suck my balls dry.” He growled out as he pushed her down to them, not taking the slow pace anymore. “Go on, you asked, don't be shy now.” He watched as her lips opened and felt her tongue on his balls, a spike of pleasure as his body took in the new sensation. He leaned into the bed, resting his weight on his knees as he watched. Andora was blushing as he talked to her with so much authority in his voice, eager to please him. Her tongue played between his heavy balls, licking them all over before his hips pressed closer. She opened her mouth and sucked in one ball at first, sucking gently, her tongue rubbing along it as best she could. He cursed heavily as he felt her give so much tender affection to a part of himself he usually didn't have any attention paid to. He watched her try to take the other ball in her mouth, her trying to be gentle. He reached down and pushed it in her lips, seeing her cheeks puffed out with his sac in her mouth and enjoying the image as his hard cock was resting on her face. He could hear the heavy sucking slurps as she rubbed her tongue over his balls that crowded her mouth, feeling each suck as it pulled his balls a bit deeper. Her hands caressed his flesh along his inner thighs and base of his cock, nails dragging along his skin. 

Andora was enjoying this so much, his musky taste so strong as she sucked his balls. The weight of his cock on her face, his hands gripping her head tight as he pushed her mouth closer. Her hand tried to wrap around the base of his cock, rubbing gently at the skin there as her other hand moved to the skin below the balls in her mouth. Pressing up into the spot softly at first she grew a little firmer when he grunted, fingers trying to find the base of his cock through the malleable skin here. He gasped and trembled as she pressed her fingers into the spot, pushing her face closer as she felt his cock twitch and his balls tense in her mouth. She used a little extra pressure with her magic at the spot where his prostate was beneath the surface and he moaned her name loudly, him pulling her away with a start as he panted to catch his breath. He felt a bit shaky like if he had finished but he was still absolutely throbbing with the need to cum. Her face was flushed and his balls ached from losing the warmth of her mouth, feeling chilled from the wetness her sucking left. Din pulled away and stripped off his thigh guards to push his pants further down as she sat there naked and waiting. It was like a haze as all he could think of was touching every part of her. He was a bit rough as he grabbed her wrists and bound them behind her back with his belt. His cuffs were an easy escape but she whimpered at the more secure bondage. 

“Too much?” He was trying to be patient and wait till she affirmed this was okay, but his hands groped her breasts, feeling their size and how they overflowed his hands. He pinched her nipples and tugged, moaning with the soft whine she made for him. 

“I'm ok.” She moaned for him, his cock brushing against her stomach as he played with her. 

“That pleasure you gave me, your magic?” He didn't really care, it had felt too good to care. But if she was going to cheat, then a little punishment for cheating was only fair. The little shocked gasp was all the answer needed to confirm his suspicions, but he twisted and tugged her nipples as he waited for her answer. “Tell me the truth or I’ll never touch you again.” How she believed that threat when all he could do was touch her breasts he didn't know. 

“Yes.” She cried out softly as he tugged on her nipples a bit harder. “I just wanted to make you feel good. Please don't stop touching me.” Andora was aching between her legs at his fondling. She arched her back pressing towards his hands, and he looked down, seeing her wetness already on her thighs. Had pleasuring him ready made her feel so good? He looked at the excess length of the leather belt bound around her wrists, a wicked thought in his head. He pushed her onto her back, easily lifting her hips up to slide a pillow between her arms and back, adding a second one as he looked at the angle of her hips to his. He pulled the excess leather strap forward and lazily rubbed it against her right thigh, her legs closed as she tried to figure out what he was going to do. He snapped to make a cracking sound, watching her shake at the noise and slowly part her legs as he rubbed her thighs. He made her spread her legs wide, leaving her little slit exposed. He then pushed her legs up towards her head, exposing her entirely. On lewd display for his eyes only. 

“Don't close your legs.” His voice was nearly a growl as he looked at her, his fingers rubbing on her neatly trimmed mound and tracing the tattoo again. “You used your magic on me without my permission.” He growled at her as he started to rub the leather of his belt along her inner thighs. “I want you to say you’re sorry.” He watched her squirm as she tried to obey him. He smirked under his helmet at the way her lips moved as her brain tried to think of something to say besides the simple words. She was taking too long, or more likely his excitement made him less patient. The first swat had been to her left thigh, the tip of his belt leaving a reddish mark. She yelped in surprise, his other hand holding her stable as she tried to move away on instinct. Seems she couldn't see the belt coming. “Say it, and I stop Andora. I just want to hear you say it and I’ll give you anything you want.” He gave a similar smack to the right thigh, watching her muscles tense afterwards, his hand able to swat the belt faster than she could see with the blindfold. 

Andora cried out and yelped with each swat he gave to her thighs and her ass, feeling the heat from the stinging flesh and yet she held back the word. Her entire body was humming with a mix of pleasure and pain, her face flush, and she could still taste him in her mouth. She felt her insides ache and tried to squeeze around the emptiness.

“I can see how needy you are, I see your other lips begging for my Mandalorian cock. Just say it and we both get what we want.” She was delirious with sensitivity as he left marks all over her ass and thighs. The skin is so tender. Din couldn't take much more himself, his cock was painfully hard. Watching her little hole literally flutter when he spread her soft soaked lips was going to undo him. He gave another smack to her ass, watching her arch up and beg without saying it he couldn't hold it back any longer. He moved onto the bed and straddled her face, opening her mouth as he led his tip to her mouth. “If this mouth won't say it, then it's only good for this.” He pushed himself into her mouth, much rougher than he should but the helpless sound of her trying not to gag was too good. He helped himself to her mouth, pumping his hips towards her lips, his balls slapping against her face. 

Andora was crying a little bit as he fucked her face into the mattress, the blindfold soaking up her tears, her jaw aching as he worked to get her to fit more than the first couple inches. She was struggling to breathe under his weight and she was choking as he didn't let her catch her breath. He moaned and slapped her breasts, watching them shake after each stroke. “You deserve to be punished, using your magic against me. Since you won't say sorry, just gonna have to fuck your stubborn, pretty, little mouth.” He worked more of his cock in with every thrust, taking it out to rub the mix of precum and drool on her face, giving her rare chances to gasp for air and maybe choke out a garbled apology. She was sure he was buried at least half way in her mouth at the roughest of thrusts, his balls a heavy constant weight on her face as he rocked his hips. His musky scent was overwhelming as it was the only thing she could taste or smell. Din’s grunts and groans mixed with the shifting of his armor and the lewd wet sound of him pushing into her mouth with her coughs and muffled moans. Her pussy ached with jealousy that it was being denied the cock it wanted so much for her stubbornness.

It felt like an eternity before he called her name and poured his cum down her throat. His hand at her throat to feel as she obediently swallowed his cum, moaning softly herself at the taste. He kept himself in her mouth till he was soft, his breathing heavy and she could feel his weight sink closer to her. “Are you ok?” She didn't know what to say, her body ached and was sore but she hadn't finished at all. “Just say sorry and I’ll give you release.” His own voice was rough from his climax, but he was pleading with her to give him a reason to keep going without breaking his stance. 

“I...Din please.” Her voice was so weak from his fucking. He sighed as he moved back between her legs, slowly opening them since they had closed during his rough use of her mouth. He rubbed his hands over the fading redness, rubbing her slit to spread her juices on his fingers. He dragged his fingers to the top of her slit, spreading the folds open to look at her clit. She was trembling excitedly as he gently rubbed his fingers on her little pleasure button. He wasn't very fast about it now, taking his damn sweet time now that his own climax came. “Din please…please make me cum.” She was rocking against his fingers, trying to end the pleasurable ache inside. She was moaning as she writhed against his hand, trying to ease the arousal that was painful now she had felt it for so long. “Anything... I'll do anything just please!” She cried out in shock as he swatted his belt right over her slit, wailing as her legs tried to close to protect herself only for his broad shoulders to keep her open to him. 

“Say it then.” He spread her legs open again, rubbing the leather of his belt against her slit. “Just one simple word Andora.” He gave her a swat again with the belt. Her body tried to move but he was stronger, his hand pinning down her hip and his arm under her leg to keep her from being able to twist away. “Ni linibar at susulur gar sirbur bic.” (I need to hear you say it.) He caressed her hip as he tapped the belt against her, warning that she would get another swat.

“Ni ceta.” (Sorry.) Her voice was so soft and small, submissive to him, and he untied her wrists from his belt, caressing his hands over her hips as he looked over the marks he left over her. He rubbed his fingers over her folds, feeling a bit bad about treating her so roughly. He unlatched his helmet, setting it aside before he pulled her hips closer to him, her thighs over his shoulders as he kissed her tattoo. She moaned at the contact of his lips to her tender flesh. “Din...you don’t have to…” He simply pressed his lips to her pussy, and she bit her lip as she arched herself towards his mouth, feeling a slight tickle from his facial hair. He dragged his tongue on her folds, rubbing his tongue against her clit, gripping her hips to keep her in place as she moaned, her body trying to move but he was in control. She was begging him and he rewarded her with a suck to her clit, her hips rocking as much as they could against his mouth. The way he teased her clit was making her insides squeeze painfully, the ache of being empty when she wanted nothing more than to feel stretched making her try to reach down and slip a finger into herself. He easily pushed her hand away, taking the hint and sliding two of his own fingers into her. The high pitched gasp of his name told him it was exactly what she wanted. He pumped his fingers into her as he licked and sucked her clit, her body trembling as she felt her orgasm build higher. 

A third finger was pressed into her, and he made sure to stretch her open by spreading his fingers inside her and rubbing her insides as he avoided direct contact with her clit at this point. Her hands gripped the bed sheets as she tried to reach her finish, begging him to let her cum only for him to stay at his own pace. She was begging him, praising him, saying anything she could to make him give her relief. He pulled his fingers from her, her hands rushing down to try and stop him from pulling away but her fingers ended up in his hair as he pushed his tongue inside of her. She panted out weakly, her thighs squeezing his head as she needed the pleasure to be over. He was rubbing her clit with his fingers at a fast pace, his tongue inside her walls as he looked up at her trembling body as she begged for his mercy. He kept his finger rubbing her clit, his other hand pushing three fingers back inside her, reaching for the spot inside her as he playfully bit her thigh. It was too much, Andora cried out as her body tensed, every muscle tight before she went limp against the bed sheets, her hands releasing his hair as she panted for air. He pulled his hands from her body, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before wiping his hands along the side of the bed sheet. Standing up he finished removing his armor and climbed into the bed with her, pulling her body close. Her body was tingling with how he had taken her to the edge and kept her there for what felt like hours. She curled into his warmth, feeling sore, aching, and safe in his arms like he would keep her as his own.

Just like she had wanted. 

A cold shiver went down her spine. All the pleasure she had felt draining away. He had said she used her powers on him, and she felt a bit sick with herself. What if she had? She had wanted to be sore and he had given her exactly that. She had wanted to feel claimed and he had taken his time to dominate her till she had come undone. She was thinking back to last night and...had he really wanted this? He had spent so much time asking her but had she even given him a choice? He felt her tense and pulled away, worried maybe he had crossed a line and she was only realizing it now. 

“What’s wrong?” Din kept his arms around her shoulders even as she tried to pull away. 

“Did you want this?” Her voice sounded so panicked and he sat up as she tried to pull away. What in the stars was wrong with her. “Did you actually want me yesterday? Or did I make you?” He felt his stomach drop. He had been teasing her, he hadn’t meant to actually imply that she controlled him. “Din...Oh by the blights...what if I...what if I made you…” He kept her close, not letting her run from him. 

“Andora calm down. You already said you couldn’t control someone with a stronger will than yours. My will isn’t any weaker than when I met you.” He murmured to her, pulling her close and stroking her back even as she tried to pull away. He needed to be more careful with what he said to her. Maybe he had overdone the apology bit. Making him feel good was not an evil use of her powers. 

“But if I wanted you more than you didn’t want me…” She was blaming herself, she didn’t trust herself or his will power in this. “You...made me feel the way I wanted to feel.” He sighed, trying to take this seriously because she was obviously upset but honestly she was panicking for nothing. He grabbed his helmet and put it on, feeling a bit weird with only the helm and every other inch of him exposed. He pulled off her blindfold, making her look at his visor. 

“Andora...You haven’t tricked me. You haven’t made me do anything I wouldn’t want to do to you.” He caressed her spine as he kept her close, her face resting on his visor. “ You were in a skin tight outfit the first day I met you. I didn’t stare because it would have been rude but I looked my fill trailing behind you and the kid.” His hands dropped to her thighs, caressing them as he reassured her. “You went on that swim and just stood there with only your bindings in my face and I could see your nipples, you suggested that seedy motel and I was sure you would try to get me like this.” He pulled the blanket up to her as she shivered, covering their bodies. “If you had tricked me...wouldn’t I snap out of it once you finished?” She nodded weakly, him leading her through the logic of this situation. “Did you ever consider that maybe I want you too?” She didn’t respond, her eyes just staring at his visor as he looked into them through the glass. “Your magic if it is doing anything at all, just makes it easier for us to please each other. Because if we both want each other, then all you can do is suggest what you want me to do. And I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve done to you.” He pressed her to his lap, keeping her warm and feeling her relax. “Believe me.” His voice dropped into a deep hum, watching her face to make sure she was hearing what he meant and not what her insecurities were making her feel. 

“But…” She was trying to keep the blame on her shoulders and he brought her head to his neck since he couldn’t kiss her with the helm on. 

“Enough Andora. I’m not your commander anymore but you need to stop. You’re not to blame for everything just because you have powers. I shouldn’t have taken our game that far, I’m sorry for planting this stupid thought in your head. I wanted this.” He sighed, wishing he could undo it. He shouldn’t have forced that sorry from her, it had too much power over her. “I want you, like this.” His hands rubbed her back soothingly as he kept her pressed to him. Her hands timidly coming to his own shoulders.

“Did your tribe have any superstitions about children?” She asked with a shaky breath, her body pressing closer. He let her change the subject, leaning his head back on the head rest as he kept her close.

“No, we were all foundlings or veterans. All children are precious to us.” He felt her hand move to his and squeezed back to help reassure her. 

“On Mandalore...before the pacifists...if a mother died in childbirth her child would be seen as a lucky warrior, with an extra life to give on the battlefield because of her sacrifice.” He already saw where this was going based on the pictures he had glimpsed. “But...the pacifists said it was a sign that the child was a monster because they can’t love anyone, even their mother.” 

“So no blame for the medical droids or doctors failing?” He said softly, not wanting her to spiral down further into her negative thoughts. He wouldn’t press her like this next time about her magic. He just needed to let her get this out.

“My mom...she was completely healthy...the cord was around my neck for hours before they delivered me...but somehow...I’m here and she’s not.” She held her hand up to his visor to stop him from interrupting her. “I’m not like Pirpak...I can’t heal people. I can only heal myself. Most of the time I can deal with injuries with my own energy...but when it's really bad, or if…” Tears were dripping down her cheeks as she looked away from his visor. “He’s giving his own life to heal others but me...I think…” She was trembling as she spoke in shaky breaths and he moved her fingers from his helmet. “I killed her...my magic...took her life.” He gripped her hair and made her turn her gaze back to his visor instead of his chest. This was the root of her problem, she was scared she was some sort of monster, and every little mistake with her powers only deepened this pain. 

“Andora, I can’t pretend I know what is happening with your magic or the kid’s.” He put her hands on his chest, not scared of her. “I don’t blame you for having magic. Having magic doesn’t make you guilty of everything that happens around you.” He put her head to his visor again as he moved them down on the bed. Laying her against him comfortingly. “Tomorrow I have a lead on a job that’ll pay well. The ship will finish being repaired tomorrow, and then we leave. I don’t want you to work tomorrow night. They are starting to pass out pucks for you.” His tone was firm and she nodded her head against his neck, trusting his judgement right now. He let her pass out against him, his mood soured as he felt like something had gone wrong. What should have ended a great night had ended with her now feeling like she had tricked him into this part of their relationship. He had a really bad feeling about tomorrow. He pulled himself from the bed, showering before getting back in all his armor, putting Andora in a nightshirt before carrying her next door to sleep with Pirpak. His blaster was in his hand, and he was staring at the door ways to the room. It was pretty early in the morning hours when he heard it, the telltale beep of a tracking fob. Andora stirred on the bed, shooting up in a fully alert mode, looking around the darkened room. She could feel the them coming for the kid. “Tion'solet?” (How many?) He whispered to her.

“Ehn.” (Three)She whispered as her hands scooped up the kid, slowly moving behind Din towards the bathroom to take shelter. “Pass me a weapon, I’ll help.” Din shook his head, tossing her the knife and her flute. Wishing he had his rifle right now. 

“Defend the kid, I can handle this.” He went back to the other room and exited out that room’s door. Andora wanted to go and help him, but the kid was her charge right now. There was the sound of blaster fire and a physical fight, her trying to see what was happening. He was a great fighter, she knew he was, but she wanted to make sure he was okay. Thankfully the fight was over, his light standing tall as the others faded out. He burst back though the other room and she understood the urgency in his gait. They were leaving now. She rushed to pick up the kid’s meager possessions, putting them in the bag as he came over to take the kid so she could get dressed and pack up her own things. She had a few nights of fun, but they needed to get back to the real world. 

* * *

Chapter End


	12. Find

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that reads my story, I hope you enjoy it, if you do, please leave a comment. It really does help keep me motivated.

The three of them had started the day early after the attempted ambush, Andora cradling the kid while Din kept them moving around the city. She pulled a scarf around her hair, helping them blend in a bit more as he led them towards the main casinos. She nestled the kid into the bag with his dolls, and he seemed incredibly quiet. He must have understood that the men earlier had been here for him. Hiding the kid from view as she closed the bag flap she positioned it so the kid was between her and Mando so no one would accidently bump into her and squish the poor thing. The casino floor was as empty as it would be for the day, only a few scattered gamblers at their prefered tables and the chiming of slots where some players hadn’t even realized how long they had been sitting there spending their cash. He led her to sit with him at a roulette table where they could have their backs to the wall, him placing a small amount of credits on the table as the dealer cashed him in. Din let her place the bet for him as he kept his eyes on patrons. She stuck to the smaller bets, either colors or odds and evens. When she won she took back the original bet and played with the house money, trying to keep the money amounts small to avoid suspicion, losing every so often. They sat there long enough that she had a free drink, choosing to get a coffee for herself since the adrenaline was wearing off. Another player looked like they wanted to join at the table, but a single glance from Din, the imposing helmet’s gaze on them, they backed off. 

It was around noon when he got the call he had been waiting for. Andora was relieved because she could cash out, walking out with only an additional hundred credits since she had started throwing games to keep the floor boss from bothering them. Din told her to stay in the Casino while he met with the client, knowing she would be safer here where bounty hunters were less likely to get into a shoot out. Her fingers brushed over his sigil on his shoulder, nodding to him and smiling with her best confident look. 

“If it’s not worth our time...we press forward.” He said softly just for her, tempted to push the ship and go to another planet and try to earn the fuel needed there. Marching off he followed the instructions to meet at the hotel's private docking yard, the Hutt’s ship due in a few hours. There was a Nikto waiting by the docking station surrounded by the other hired muscle nearby looking over his Beskar. The Nikto seemed pleased to see the flashy armor.   
  
“Master Grakkus will be pleased to hire your services as a bodyguard.” The Nikto was tapping his fingers along the clip board with the paperwork, a pen scratching something as he turned his attention to something else.

“Not going to ask my rate.” This was setting off warning bells for Din. 

“Master Grakkus has recently gained an interest in Mandalorians. He would be greatly entertained to have a Mandalorian escort to the concert tonight and tomorrow. You will have to polish your armor, and bring your best weapons along as well.” The Nikto was waving off Din’s concerns, more focused on getting his employers' needs met. 

“I won’t take a job without knowing the pay.” He should listen to his instincts and walk away. Dark eyes narrowed on him, lips pursed in annoyance but he looked down to look over the files in his hand.

“20,000 credits enough for the next two days?” His voice had a bit of a hiss to it, not pleased with having to state the price. That would be enough for Din to fuel the ship for a while. His responsibility to his son was more important than the discomfort caused by the job. He would need to bring his rifle and the disintegration rounds to impress the client. 

“Down payment of 5,000. No Imperial credits.” The Nikto looked ready to refute the demand, pursing his lips as he thought it over. “I need to know your client is serious.” The fingers flexed around the clipboard before a tongue clicked in displeasure, Din ready to walk on this offer. 

“Come back in two hours for the down payment. Master Grakkus will be here in four hours, be ready to work when you get your payment, we have to secure his viewing box for the concert and his hotel room.” Din nodded before marching off, the discomfort in his stomach at the job weighing on him. 

* * *

“So...come here often or only when you get kidnapped?” The feminine voice teased, the deeper tones of her voice matching her more hard edged looks. 

“Oh my goodness it's been ages Kejena.” Andora gasped in delight, throwing her arms excitedly around her friend as the woman sat with her at the bar. “What are you doing out here?”

“Touring honey. We have a show here for two nights. Working our way through the star systems to Hosnian Prime for the the Remembrance week Concert.” Kejena’s skin was shades darker than Andora’s, with shockingly white hair to match the silver contacts in her eyes. The piercings adorning the woman’s face were decked out in shimmering precious stones. Her black flight suit had one to many zippers and straps than practical, but it was outlining her body in spectacular ways. “So...where’s the kidnapper?” Her calm tone was at odds with the way her eyes were scanning for a threat. 

“Kidnapper? What are you talking about?” Andora was thinking maybe this was some bad joke. 

“The Death Watch people that kidnapped you after robbing the Museum.” Her friend's expression turned serious as her eyes kept scanning the room for hostiles. “I can get you out of here hon. I’m not leaving my friend to be some terror group hostage.” Her voice raised in pitch as she stood, seeing Mando coming back from the far end of the room, his glinting armor hard to miss. “Come on we can make it back to my room before he reaches us.” She grabbed Andora’s hand, ready to try and save her.

“Kejena calm down please...I don’t understand. Who's been saying I was kidnapped?” Her friend’s face was honestly confused as she turned back to look at Andora while still trying to tug her friend after her. Mando’s steps quickened at the odd commotion around Andora and the new woman. 

“It’s all over the news honey. They kidnapped you. Now let’s go before he gets to us.” Kejena started to pull more insistently on Andora’s hand as Mando was marching up. Andora shifted the bag to keep Pirpak safe as her taller friend tugged her along. 

“Kejena, stop please. Whatever you heard isn’t true. Let’s wait for Mando to catch up and we can talk this over.” Andora didn’t pull away from her friend, not wanting to cause more panic but she wasn’t walking along. “Kaysh cuyir va a ki'agr at mhi.” (He's not a threat to us.) 

“Ner dir val bu'ca gar.” (My god they brainwashed you.) Kejena was looking around to see if she could flag down some help to get them to safety. “Ra gi'ah gihla ibac du'car.” (We'll fix that later.)

“Gedet'ye sushir at ni, kaysh cuyir ner... ver'gebuir.” (Please listen to me, he's my...bodyguard.) There was a hesitation in her voice because well, they had not really talked about what this was now. 

“See, you know it’s not true. Now let’s go.” She hissed and tugged harder on Andora’s wrist to pull her along only Andora to dig in her heels and not move. 

“I can’t just run off with his son Kejena.” That caught her friend’s attention, the woman genuinely trying to process what her friend was talking about. “It’s just him, his kid, and me.” Her friend was gripping her hands and trying to look into her friend’s eyes to see any sort of lie. Andora was careful to not let her powers slip into her voice. “I’m not in danger. Ni copaanir at cuyir ti kaysh.” (I want to be with him.) Kejena’s eyes were searching, looking to the imposing man getting closer to them, her instincts telling her to run.

“Is it really safe?” Kejena was looking a bit paler as he walked up. Andora felt horrible causing her friend this much distress, but gripped her friend's hands reassuringly as Mando reached them, his body tense but his cloak covering his weapons from view of the other patrons.

“De ner aliik.” (By my sigil.) That helped calm the other woman but she wouldn’t stop being tense. They were getting more looks and Andora looped her arm through Kejena’s arm, smiling brightly to help sell that this was just girly hijinks. “Let’s talk somewhere else. Lead the way.” Thankfully Mando picked up on the cue, following behind the two women as they walked from the crowded casino floor towards the lifts up to the guest rooms. As they entered the lift they were silent. The stops on other floors did not last long as no one wanted to join them when all Mando did was tilt his helmet and the menacing glare would make the other party back off. Soon they reached the floor Kejena was staying in, following to her room which was one of the large suits on the top floor. Swiping her card she let the pair of them into the suit, the room a bit disorganized with what looked like clothes and bedding strewn about the room in various spots with bottles of drinks and mostly eaten food cluttering other spaces. Snoring was coming from the couch, the sleeping person wrapped up in sheets with the luggage piled up against the only clean wall. Kejena led them towards the kitchenette and hastily pushed things into the sink to clear counter space for them to speak around. Both women sat but Mando stayed standing, reaching for the bag Andora had, taking it from her to sling over his own shoulders. 

“Got lucky...everyone else is down in the venue getting set up for the show.” Kejena was trying to break the tension, Mando keeping his gaze focused on assessing the room to help keep the other woman calm. “So...he’s...not...you aren’t?” 

“No, I’m not kidnapped. Mando found me when I crashed on Mandallia. He’s promised to help me and I’m helping him before I go back to Mandalore.” Andora had her hands in her lap, trying to help calm her friend while holding her powers in check by physically restraining herself.

“But the news said Death Watch attacked the Museum, and kidnapped you.” Kejena tried to explain, as if Andora was the one in the wrong here. 

“I told Senator Ordot I was leaving and I would come back when it was safe. I left because I was scared of what I thought Death Watch would do. Maybe he misunderstood.” Andora was trying to understand how this misunderstanding could have happened. Din had been thinking it over on his own since the call from Karga, and he had far less optimistic thoughts on the information.

“Andora, Death Watch tried to assassinate the Senator...and they killed Kahl in that attack. It was like less than two weeks between the events.” It was Andora who paled now, her fingers squeezing tighter as she took the news. Din flexed his fists as he understood that could not have been possible. Yes there were different groups within the Death Watch, but none of them would have killed a man wanting to bring armor back to the planet. “It was a huge funeral for Kahl and everything. Both groups attended the vigil for him, including the Senator. It’s why the government  
is offering half a million credits for you. We’re worried that they might...do something to you.” 

“But...my vision...if Kahl died, it should have changed.” Andora whispered mostly to herself, biting her lip as she tried to make sense of this. She hadn’t seen any of this happening. Her vision of Mandalore was the same, the cities washed in blood and death. Being with Din had helped her calm the maelstrom of fears this brought but now...what had she missed in the vision? How could she be so wrong? Or...was it not enough to stop Kahl? 

“Where is the Senator now?” Din asked calmly, feeling the kid stirring in the bag, ready to come out instead of being inside.

“He’s on Hosnian Prime, trying to keep up his responsibilities as senator while recovering from his injuries.” Kejena said, her tone suspicious of Mando. “We’re inside, you can talk off your helmet. We’re all Mandalorians.” 

“Leave it alone Kejena. We’ve had a long night.” Andora said firmly to her friend on Din’s behalf. “Did he at least bring up the atmosphere rehabilitation plan to either the Planetary Council or to the Galactic Senate yet? Or any of the other proposals I set him when I left?” Maybe she had at least put some good into motion on the planet.

“No...He’s been getting mining regulations relaxed so we can extract more minerals for trade.” Kejena didn’t really follow news, but some of the others in the orchestra were very passionate about it, and while spending months on end together she picked up on the topics they argued about.

“What? There’s nothing left! The Empire ripped everything out of the ground already. The geological society already said we had barely enough deposits left in those mines. I’ve been to the geologic conventions and the evidence of possible collapses puts every miner in danger.” The snoring skipped a couple of beats at her raised voice before the sleeper rolled over and muffled it into the cushion. She could understand not taking her ideas off world but surely there would have been some value in the proposals she crafted with her colleagues. Maybe they had needed a few more drafts? What was Ordot trying to do by sending miners back into the hollowed out dig sites he had closed down years ago. 

“I don’t know Andora.” Kejena sighed in frustration, wanting to get back to the point of how her friend had just gone missing. “Why haven’t you been in touch with anyone then since you left if you’re not kidnapped?” Andora couldn’t help but notice the hurt tone in Kejena’s voice.

“I was...I mean, I was in touch with other historians asking for research information ...and then we were on that planet for a while and the signal out there was horrible. I mean...I didn’t think to reach out to anyone else besides the senator…” Andora bowed her head down, it hadn’t dawned on her to reach out to give her friends the truth. “I didn’t think about it...I’ve been emailing my colleagues at the museum, and I didn’t have any social life outside work once the group got popular offworld and your in-laws on Concord Dawn watch the kids now.” Why hadn’t anyone at work told her about the issues on the planet? None of them even asked her if she was okay. 

“Andora...just because I left the planet didn’t mean I abandoned you. I offered for you to come off world with us anytime you wanted, but you always said you were busy with work.” Kejena reached out and put her hands over Andora’s and gave her friend a sad smile. “I mean...Hell if you had only asked me for help I would have sent a ship for you. You always have a spot here in the Orchestra. When you’re here I feel jante manda.” (*being one with the clan) Both women had the slight sheen of tears in their eyes as they suddenly moved to hug each other, having missed their friendship that had been strained by years and distance. “You stubborn idiot...You aren’t as alone as you think you are.” 

“It’s so hard to remember that back home when no one is there.” Andora said softly to her friend. Kejena squeezing her back, knowing it was her friend's apology. 

“Kiss already.” Kejena easily tossed an empty can from the sink at the man still wrapped in the sheets as he started to wake up, his head popping up with a messy mass of dark brown curls, looking at them. “Oh shit...I think I drank too much...I’m seeing a commando in here.” 

“Go to the room and get ready for work Saro dear.” He obeyed her and rolled to stand and head off towards the bedroom with the shower. Closing the door behind him. “So...going to introduce me to him?” Kejena asked as she turned a more friendly smile towards Mando, noticing the movement in the bag. “Wait...you said you had his son...Did you shove a baby in that bag?” She sounded aghast at that, motioning for the baby to be let out of the bag. Din looked towards her, Andora nodded that it was fine. “Oh don’t worry about me, I got four kids at home. I know what I am doing. I thought Andora did too, shoving babies in bags, if my kids grow up weird it’s your fault.” Din sighed, but opened the bag and pulled Pirpak out of the bag, already expecting the gasp of delight and the unstoppable gushing about cuteness. When the kid looked up and called him dad and reached up for a hug Kejena was even more enamored with him. 

“Do you think you could watch the kid while I talk with her?” Din spoke to Kejena, the woman eagerly taking the child and coddling him and obeying his small one word commands to feed him and give him attention. Din left the bag on the chair as he led Andora to talk with him on the balcony. “I have a job offer to be a bodyguard for two nights here.” He had his gloved hand gently on her forearm as he kept his gaze on her face. “It doesn’t feel right. I rather take our chances with the ship getting to another planet.” Andora looked down at his hand on her arm, understanding the silent request. Use her vision to see what was the better choice. 

“You heard what she said...Kahl is gone, but my visions aren’t any different. What if I get this wrong?” He rubbed his fingers along her arm, pulling her closer to him. 

“I still have to do some background checks into the client. I just want to know what you think.” His voice through his modulator was monotone but she felt the gentle pressure of his hand on her wrist, understanding he wasn’t putting this all on her. She reached and put her hand on his helmet, closing her eyes and trying to call a vision to her. 

“I’m not seeing anything. But if you think it’s a bad idea I’d trust your gut on that.” She sounded so unsure of herself. She gave him a smile, trying to be more self-confident. “I can ask Kejena for some help. I am sure a quick fuel loan won’t be too much. I can pay her back later.” Her hand slowly pulled away from his helmet, pulling her hand back towards herself. Din let her go back inside to ask her friend, grateful that at least he if he was given help it was from other Mandalorians. He waited on the balcony, not wanting to add unneeded pressure to the request. Looking over the beach below he could see the throngs of people out on the sand and in the waves. He could feel the breeze playing with his cape, and he allowed himself to think about the event this morning. He turned when the balcony opened again to see her lips turned up in a real smile, not the faked one she gave him earlier. 

“She said they can give us a ride. They have a cruiser and we can park the Crest in their hold and go with them. They are passing through the system for a few shows on their way to Hosnian Prime anyway.” She rested her arms on the balcony, leaning subconsciously into him. 

“What do they want in return?” She looked up at him with a neutral expression on her face.

“She didn’t ask for anything from you.” She was only telling him half the truth again. 

“What about you?” The downward tilt of her lips told him he was right. Good thing he had sat at a roulette table, she would be horrible at sabacc. 

“She wants me to be part of the orchestra again. At least till we disembark. It’s fine, I was happy to perform in the lounge so this is no different, and now I really will be helping pay the fuel cost.” He felt that uncomfortable knot in his stomach relaxing, so he wouldn’t resist this turn of events. “Are you still going to take the job?” He shook his head, feeling more of the tension draining from him, and deciding that it was just better for them to move on and earn later. Kejena might not trust him, but she would help them. A Mandalorian’s help was better than a payday. 

“It’s not smart for you to be showing your face on stage, you are worth a lot.” Andora couldn’t help but hear what she wanted. That she was worth a lot to him, not just the bounty on her head. She hadn’t shut the balcony behind her, Kejena and the kid joining them. The kid was busy sucking on the large piece of fruit in his mouth, completely unconcerned about the adult drama.

“Since for some reason she wants to stay ‘kidnapped’ legally, she’ll wear a mask for every show if she’s even in performance shape. Otherwise she’ll just be part of the set up crew.” The woman handed Pirpak over to Din as he reached out for him. “When your ship is ready you can move it into the cargo hold of our cruiser. She’s docked under the name Light Marauder. She’ll be hard to miss. She’s got a bunch of clan insignia painted on her to represent all of us.”

* * *

“Lord Grakkus, I am terribly sorry, I tried to offer the Mandalorian more money but he refused to take the job. I showed him the down payment but he seemed wary. Said money won’t change his mind, but he was humbled by your offer.” The Nikto said, trembling as the large Hutt walked off his ship. The cybernetic legs affixed to his large body were curved hooks that clacked on the metal of the ship's landing bay, the interior of the legs sharpened to bladed edges. 

“Did you give him my name?” His slitted eyes fixed on his servant as he moved closer, his body filling his vision.

“Yes I did Lord Grakkus.” There was a sudden scream as the humanoid fell to the floor, clutching his bleeding leg as his Master walked by. 

“If he is half as good as any of the stories, he could easily look into my record. Count this as your warning. Give my name without my consent again, and it’ll be your neck.” The Hutt walked forward, other servants marching out to bring along his bags as the transport sent by the hotel for him was idling outside the docking bay. Other bodyguards marched off the ship, taking their places to keep the Hutt safe from rival crime lords. “I was hoping for such a wonderful discussion about Mandalorian culture, and their views on the Jedi. I will just have to keep looking it seems.” Grakkus sighed, he was slowly rebuilding his collection after being released from Imperial prison. He had started to add Sith relics to his collection as well, but one of his newest acquisitions made him turn his eyes on having Mandalorians added as part of his collection. They lasted for months in his battle arena. Finding them was rare, and it was always a trade off between how useful they actually could be and how nice their armor looked mounted in his display cases.

* * *

Chapter End. 


	13. Pain

Din and Andora were in the cockpit of the Razor Crest as she helped him find Kejena’s ship. The kid was playing with his toys while the adults worked. Andora pointed out the ship to Din, an older model but with obviously well done upkeep. The paint looked relatively new, and indeed all along her hull were clan sigils painted on, with the Mythosaur Skull proudly adoring the head of the ship over the view ports, and the pacifist sigil over her entrance bay. The side was open for them, and with her hanger empty he picked a spot he liked. He parked his ship in reverse so if he needed he could fly out with his blasters able to target incoming problems. When the ship was fully parked the trio walked out into the hangar, Andora ready to show him the ship that was their host. 

“How do you know the layout?” He followed her, noticing that she was mostly confident with where she was going, even if she had to stop and remember.

“I used to fly with them, we could travel to the other cities planetside, and if my...well as long as I was accompanied by a security officer I could go perform with them within the star system. It was a big upgrade when my Dad helped sign the loan for her over our junkyard baby. Said if we were gonna fly around it had to be held together with more than gum and spit. He was right of course, the engines on our first ship only worked like 40% of the time. Not bad for literally welding it together out of scrap but yeah, this is a much nicer ship.” Andora was showing Din around the galley and common spaces, the interior much more comfortable than other Marauders he had flown in. 

“Doesn’t it belong to you if your Dad bought it?” She didn’t need a ship, she was with him, but he was curious. 

“Oh helms no. The band bought it as a group, but since a bunch of teenagers buying a cruiser starship was way too risky for the banks my Dad signed his name as a cosigner for us. He got the price down for us too, since he was part of the city's security forces he got discounts on a bunch of stuff, including this old patrol ship.” She always lit up with so much pride talking about her Dad, and the man buying the ship for her didn’t seem to match Din’s idea about a man that was distant from her as an infant, or that didn’t give her his blessing to be a soldier. The galley was well stocked, and he noticed her leading him towards the bridge. 

“He must have been busy in that position.” Din stated neutrally, knowing she would gladly supply the intel he was looking for.

“Oh all the time.” The bridge opened and Din let himself look over the controls, just in case. Andora was holding Pirpak in her arms as she looked around the space. “He was in charge of training the patrols and things like that, would be gone for days at a time, my brother and I would stay with neighbors when he worked. That’s actually how Kejena and I became friends.” Din nodded, listening to her words and piecing information together while noticing the ship had its full fire power still intact. For repelling pirates most likely. “When I was big enough he would sneak us onto the Carrack ships for his patrols during the school breaks. Since his rookies respected him so much they never reported it, and Dad even taught us both how to fly on those. I mean most of those ships were automated to allow for only two mandatory crew members but still.” His formal education through a government had stopped after the droids attacked. His clan hadn’t neglected his education, but there wasn’t the same kind of emphasis, it was what was useful and practical. Languages needed for the outer rim, the math of how much food a credit was worth, the physics of a fight, different weather impacts on blaster fire, how to scare an opponent to avoid a fight, how to pick out allies for a battle, and how to patch yourself up after. Everything else was if you had the free time. “Those were really nice times. Camping was still my favorite but...he tried so hard to be a good dad all by himself and I was such a little shit to him.” She wiped her eyes while he wasn’t looking. Din thought to himself of her gentle reassurance the other night about yelling at Pirpak. Would the kid care about him this much when he was gone, even with all his failures? Would the kid look back fondly on their times together and see how hard he tried? Would his son love him as much, see him as larger than life like she saw her dad? 

“Did he go looking for you when you ran away?” Would the kid ever forgive Din for handing him over to the Empire? 

“He never said anything once we flew off from the camp. But...everyone else did. Said he had looked everywhere for me, he put a reward out for me, he even got demoted over abandonment of duties when he came out looking for me. I...when I found out how much he lost because of me...I tried to be a better daughter. I focused on school, on my music, on just...trying not to cost him anything else. I mean...the most rebellious thing was my boyfriends, and even then, he hated the Empire so I don’t know if he was actually upset about them...other than you know, his daughter dating.” He let her lead him towards the gunner stations, her hand brushing along the chair. The rest of the way around the ship was more reminiscing for her, the trio only briefly making note of the crew quarters before they returned to the hangar having walked through all the ship. It had been a rough day, and while they were invited to the concert tonight they found themselves instead back in the small safe hold of the Crest. With the fabric that was now Pirpak's play mat on the floor Andora sat near him, feeling like the past few days hadn't been real. With the quiet of the ship and the lack of distraction her hand came back to her upper chest, the pain she had woken up with a few days ago came back. It was sore. It felt hot, like a burn that's not quite healing. Andora was not used to being in pain for so long. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she should have been paying attention to this pain. 

“Din...where did you give me the bacta shots?” She spoke his name softly, testing if he would let her say it again. He looked at her, noticing how her hand rubbed at her shoulder, moving to gently pull the neckline of her shirt aside to check her skin. The pale skin was the same as it had been. No bruises, no marks, no discoloration. 

“Into your thighs.” She kept touching it even as he spoke, but he couldn't see anything wrong. He didn't mind her speaking his name when it was just the three of them. “What’s wrong?” He was not used to her complaining about physical injuries. 

“I just...when I woke up from being unconscious I was in pain too. I was able to ignore it but now...it hurts really bad.” She put her head back on the ship's wall, the kid looking at her, sensing what she had been ignoring. “Can you feel it too?” She asked Pirpak softly, wishing she could just get answers from him about what he was able to see. 

“Have you felt like this before?” Din was near her on the floor, crouching as he examined her. Bacta allergies could be really dangerous. She had to think hard about his question. 

“It...it was a long time ago.” Her shy tone and hestancy made him frown, but he had to turn her face back towards him to convey the same feeling. “More magic stuff I guess.” 

“Andora, just tell me.” He sighed, holding his frustration to the side. “You want to be equals, it goes both ways.” He might not understand, but it was something she needed to share with him. If his son asked questions then he needed to have a leg to stand on. Her eyes looked up into his visor, and she pressed her hand firmer to her chest, trying to mitigate the ache she was feeling.

“Last time I felt like this...my brother was shot.” Her eyes were glistening as she spoke, pushing the pain down again. “I think something bad happened...but I don’t know who.” 

“How did you know it was your brother?” Din was focusing on what she could tell him. 

“Because we were linked...like...we could always feel each other. We always could sense each other with our magic.” A family connection, she could feel family connected through her. “But I don’t have any other family...so I don’t know why I’m feeling like this.” He thought back on what they had been through. Andora had made a connection recently. With the daughter of Dr Syille. The woman had helped them, and if other bounty hunters had tracked him here. He stood up, reviewing the layout of the town in his head for what he needed. 

“I’ll send out an SOS signal. With any luck a ship will be close enough to get there in time.” He hoped his guess about her magic was right. 

“What? You’ll be arrested as soon as they get here.” She was trying to stand, but her skin went a bit paler as she tried. He firmly pushed her back down to sit with the kid on the blanket.

“It’s not for us. Just stay here and watch the kid. I’ll explain later.” He was out of both the Crest and the Marauder before she could stop him. 

* * *

“It’s a distress signal General.” The man pulled up the read out of the message. “It’s an encrypted source but the coordinates are for Zeffos. We can match the coordinates with a New Republic expedition.” He called to the bridge, waiting for the General to speak. 

“What kind of expedition?” The woman’s voice was firm, her presence a calming security for her crew.

“It’s being identified as a historical and remains recovery expedition. Civilians with only a few guards. The message says they need emergency medical treatment. The planet's weather is making contact with the expedition impossible.” The communications officer was reading off the report. “A second call for help for the same location is coming from Canto Bight. Less details but still implying emergency medical response.”

“Two different calls for help seems like a pretty long way to go for a trap.” The woman said. “Dispatch an X-wing squadron to secure the area and act as an escort for the medical transport. Make sure they take a medical droid to help till transport gets there.” Her orders were being repeated, and with satisfaction the X-wings were up and out of the hanger in less than 15 minutes. The squadron jumped to hyperspace, their after image fading. 

* * *

“Kahl is gone and they're monitoring all communications now. We have to leave. It’s not what we want but it’s getting too dangerous to stay. They’re going to crack the encryptions and track us down.” The room was dimmed as the group gathered around the table, the dull hum of the machines in back helping mask their words to the outside.

“She just messaged all her colleagues about what is happening back here on Mandalore. What do I say? She’s gonna figure out soon we’ve been messing with her messages. It was already risky rerouting all her communications through us to edit their content, but she might reach out through an open channel and we can’t censor that.” One of the men was sounding really annoyed and overwhelmed by the work he had been doing. He was not a historian and trying to match the wordy and jargon heavy communications had been lots of extra work on him. 

“If we keep waiting this is going to blow up in our faces. We should leave the planet and just meet up with the rest of the troops.” The woman pleaded with their leader. 

“Ordot is getting desperate and sloppy, and whoever he’s made a deal with is getting more dangerous. The mines are already hushing their numbers. Two cave ins and workers in the hospitals. If we hadn’t had a group on watch those people would have been crushed. We can’t abandon the mission. Our leader is gone but we have our orders. We won’t abandon our people.” The room was pensive as they took in his words. “End the communication interference, hopefully she’ll figure enough to keep her position secret. She’s been able to stay out of reach with the relic so far.” The man nodded as their commander spoke. “True Mandalorians till the end. For Mandalore.” 

“For Mandalore.” They repeated softly, the room heavy with what felt like a quiet death sentence. 

* * *

Cara was flexing her fingers as she paced, eager to have a rematch with the kriffing Imps. How they got the drop on her she didn't know, but it wouldn't work twice. She was going after them, and she was gonna enjoy it. The helmeted woman was methodical to a fault, but since Cara was hoping for a ride on her ship she couldn't really bring anything up. If she thought Mando had been patient and thorough this woman was making him look reckless. Karga was staying back to keep them informed of any future updates. The Armorer finally turns the ship on after storing all the Beskar bricks and her craft tools, then taking off without much conversation. 

“How are we going to find them?” Cara finally broke the silence. 

“The child still has tracking fobs on him. Karga had one left.” The woman answers easily, the ship smoothly exiting the atmosphere before she typed in information to calculate the hyperdrive jump. She pulls out the small tracker, setting it to her system to help determine direction. 

* * *

The ‘Duchess’ was in progress, and the schematics of the Mandalorian Cities were pulled up on the screen, with the registries of all the households now. Gideon smirked, seeing the grand plan coming together even with all the delays. The encrypted messages had stopped but at this point it would be easy enough to wipe them out. Mandalorian’s were easy to predict, they would rise up in their beskar armor to protect the civilians, and he would wipe them all out. He could feel the discomfort from the Mandalorians on his crew, but they also were loyal soldiers. If they wanted to save anything of their people, they had to obey. 

His hand drifted to the Dark Saber on his belt, smirking to himself as he sat on his chair looking out the bridge view port. He had studied the Vizsla woman’s imperial files, and he was ready to flush her out if his Death Troopers failed, which he was expecting. He would have to demote Commander Laust as well when they made contact, the man had withheld information from him. 

“Moff, we have the jammer codes ready whenever you give the order. It will block all contact from the planet to the New Republic.” He simply held up his hand to acknowledge the information, but it would be worthless to use it without all the pieces in place. 

“Is the facility going to have room for them?” Gideon asked, not going to be pleased if anything else was running behind schedule.

“It should be ready around the time the Duchess is completed.” The communications officer responded quickly. 

“I need you to reach out to the Warden of the corrections camp in the Vizsla case. They have something I want.” 

* * *

Chapter End.


	14. Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is honestly just smut, no real plot progression in this one. I just needed to get this out of my head. If you don't want to read about anal play and sexy times just know that it happens in this chapter and they enjoy it. Next chapter will have plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that is leaving reviews and bookmarks and kudos, it really helps motivate me. 
> 
> Keri, I am so happy you enjoyed it. I know this is a long story so you reading through all of it at once is a big honor. 
> 
> DaniIsSuchADani, this chapter is not very plot heavy but the last one was so hopefully it all balances out. I am so glad you like it. 
> 
> Melina, Thank you for reading, I am so happy you like my work. 
> 
> TaffetaBlue, I am using an online translator so its possible its a wrong translation, but I am using the translation for Dad as a less formal way to address Mando for the kid. Thank you for reading.

Din had come back after sending out a distress signal for the camp. He locked the door of the crest for privacy, feeling so much better with just the three of them on the ship again. Seeing the kid cuddled up in the floating cradle with his two stuffed animals he smiled to himself. Andora was sitting on her cot, in just her night shirt as she rubbed the aching spot, looking up to him as he rejoined her. He set his weapons and gauntlets aside, Gingerly joining her on the cot, hearing the cot strain under the added weight of him and his armor. She watched him curiously as he joined her, not sure how their little tryst would translate now. He gently pulled her closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder as his hands pressed to her muscles as he caressed her. Whatever she had been expecting, the sweet moment hadn’t been it. She curled into his touch, both of them trying to ignore the protest from her cot. 

“Ni cuyir olar par gar.” (I'm here for you.) He whispered to her, her head tucked into his shoulder and neck, and her hands pressed to the sides of his armor. “I reached a republic broadcast station, a ship picked up and is on the way to check on Dr. Syille.” He felt her shudder against him, and he took the soft moment to just sort through his thoughts. 

“Thank you.” She said softly into his neck, his layers protecting his skin from the stimulating heat of her breath. Din could hear her soft breathing, the kids soft little snores, his own heartbeat in his armor. He didn't want to let this go. 

“I have been thinking of names for the kid. It's...harder than I thought. How did you pick his nickname?” He wanted to distract her from the pain, and himself from the idea of this all vanishing once he delivered the kid to his people. 

“Soup is one of my favorite meals.” The small creek was nothing to worry about.

“That's all the effort you put in?” He chuckled as she shrugged in his arms, the blankets over her legs. 

“Well...my tribe has a less is more approach to names.” Her legs moved closer to him. 

“What do you mean?” He slowly leaned them back against the wall. 

“Most Vizsla’s have three letter names, it's common in warrior families to keep names short.” Paz came to mind instantly, and he wondered if they were actually related or just similar last names. “My name was my Mother's choice, a compromise with my father. He wanted my name to be Ada, and she wanted to name me after her mother.” He let his hands drop to her waist, his eyes closed as he tried to recall if his parents had shared the reason they named him. “Could just do the simple name of Ad’Din.” (Son of Din) She offered up, and he swore she kissed his neck guard. 

“No, his name should be able to stand on its own. The other two of his kind lived centuries, it would not be right to burden him with my name for so long.” His fingers lazily stroked her thighs. “The others of his species both had Y’s in the name, maybe a pattern to connect him to them?”

“Yedo...Yodle, Yade, Yidla…” Andora started trying to force different vowels into the names they did have, Din giving her a soft tap to her ass. 

“Not helping.” The cot seemed to shake with the simple motion. “I will have to keep thinking it over.” He wanted to pull her into his lap, wanted to touch her again, wanted to feel himself inside her. Now was not the time, she was in pain, and the kid was floating feet away. He opened his bunk and ordered the pod to float into the safer place. Andora moved shyly, wrapping her arm around his neck so Din sat her in his lap, feeling her squirm a bit, pulling the blanket closer around herself. “Cold?” 

“Just thinking about things.” His hands lazily stroked her thighs. “You asked if I wanted to stay.” His hand gently squeezed in a possessive manner before he could stop himself. “If I would take the vow to the Way.” He felt his heart speed up. “I couldn’t be as devoted as you about keeping the helm on.”

“Too much food you want to eat?” He teased, holding his tongue about him not caring if she did or not. He liked seeing her face and playing with her hair. As beautiful as she would be in a helmet, he would ignore that rule for her to smile at him. She gave him a look that made him practically hear her daring him to call her fat. “It’s more comfortable in here than you think, much more padding than the one in the locker.” He aimed at a less hostile subject, seeing her roll her eyes at him. 

“Really now.” She pressed herself closer, wanting to ignore the pain, wanting him to mean what he said. That he wanted her, and it wasn't some trick of her magic. “Prove it.” 

“Turn around, face the wall.” He said softly, hands on her hips, urging her to turn. She obeyed him, he could hear her breathing coming in a bit shallow. He licked his lips, her sitting on his lap, facing away from him. He shakily brought his hands up to his helm, disengaging the magnetic lock, and slowly lifting it from his head. Andora sat stiff as possible, her breathing fast as she heard him take it off. “Din you don’t ha-” Her words died in her mouth as the rim of his helm passed over her eyes and she trembled as the weight rested on her head. Her eyes adjusted to the display screen, and she could feel the padding cradling her head, and it actually smelled clean in here, all she could smell was the metal and his own scent. 

“How does it feel?” She could hear his voice, and a little display showed her the read out of his voice, isolating the rise, fall, pitch. The data didn’t mean much to her, but she could hear his tone was rich, husky, and she could feel his length under her rump harden.

“You cheater, there’s a voice analyzer in here.” She teased him, and he chuckled, his hands rubbing at her thighs. 

“It’s a vital piece of equipment, people don’t realize how much their voice gives away. Like when you were singing...I could read how aroused you were, displaying yourself like that. I nearly dragged you from the stage. I could hear how much you wanted to be touched.” She moaned as he rocked up into her bottom. “When you said that you wanted Mandalorian children...You were so honest, so needy, it absolutely snapped me.” She slowly lifted the helm from her head, holding it above her head as she waited for him to take it back. His hands rested on hers, but he didn’t move it. “Why?” He asked so softly, whispering into her ear. It took all her self control to not turn around. 

“So I can look at you.” She was breathy and he could feel her rocking against him. He put his helmet back on, and she turned to face him again as the magnetic lock clicked, and she rested her head against his visor, her eyes looking at him through the glass. “Din…” Her hands were resting on his shoulders as she rocked into his lap. Andora heard the closing of the bunk and started to pepper kisses on his helmet. “Do you want this?” Her answer was his hands roughly yanking her night shirt off and pulling her against his armored chest. She whined at the cool metal on her breasts when she wanted his hands instead. His hands cupped her ass through her underwear, and he couldn't help but wonder how perfect she would actually look swollen with his child. 

Din had never thought much of a family because of his work, but having the kid had changed his mind. He wanted to be a father, he wanted to have his clan to be more than just him. When the kid was delivered to his people Din didn't want to be alone again. He took off his gloves and ran his hands up to cup her breasts, they were big now, and he could only imagine how they might feel swollen with milk to feed his child. He squeezed her possessively, listening as she tried to stifle her moans. Her eyes were closed as she kept her face level with his visor. 

“Din please... I need you to say it. I don't want to doubt this.” She whispered softly and he slowed his touches, trying to think of what words could possibly undo the doubt he created. 

(It's literally just smut from here to the end.)

“Andora. I want you. I want all of you.” Din traced her lips with his thumb, his cock twitching at the memory of watching her gag so prettily for him. He dragged his thumb down her body to gently cup her mound, feeling the heat from her, and the growing wetness from her own need. His hands slowly moved to cup her ass, one hand dipping into her underwear and moving to tease her puckered hole. She jerked away, and he saw her face turn to discomfort, her eyes opening to look at him. 

“Not there. It's not supposed to...it's weird.” Andora had never had anything there, and honestly it was just so far from her comfort zone. Din felt a dark idea come to him, and he didn't move his finger. “Din?” 

“I said I want all of you Andora, and I mean it.” He growled at her, feeling her shake in his lap. The cot protested loudly but he didn't care. “You want me to prove that you're not forcing me to do this, don't you?” Her green eyes widened and she went timid in his hands. He couldn't help but feel powerful as she submitted so easily to his words. She used magic to get what she wanted, but all he had to do was tell her and she obeyed. “I am going to take you here.” He pressed his finger against her little hole, feeling her tremble at the pressure. “I am going to watch my cock stretch you apart, going to feel your warm walls take me, and I will make you moan like a good little whore from it.” His own arousal was straining against his pants, eager to make good on his words. “And when you feel my seed flowing into your used little hole, the one you're asking me not to touch.” He pressed his finger more against her, feeling her clench reflexively to keep him out. “You'll believe me when I say that I want you.” Her eyes were glossy and wide, a mix between fear and arousal at the vivid picture he was painting. “Because no amount of magic you use will change my mind about claiming every inch of your body for myself.” He wasn't this talkative normally but he was enjoying his words' affect on her. “You want Mandalorian children. I'll proudly father them.” The hand still cupping her sex rubbed against her through her panties. “But then you're mine if I do. And I will have all of you.” She moaned at his lusty words, her arms wrapped around his neck as she pressed closer to his hand on her mound and away from his finger teasing her ass. “Do you want that?” 

“Yes. I want that, I want your children, I want to be yours.” She pleaded softly, shamelessly rubbing her pussy into his hand. He pulled his hands away from her and put her to the side as he stood up, looking down at her in just her scrap of fabric while he was in full armor. He turned the lights out in the ship, his headlamp turning on and shining a spotlight on her letting him see everything as she sat there obediently waiting for him. He walked to his aid kit, taking the lubricant tube from it. He read it, making sure it was safe to use before walking back to her. Grabbing some clean rags to use after. Din used some for padding the floor at the edge of her cot. He set the lubricant down in her lap as he started to remove his armor, taking off the clothes underneath before strapping the beskar back on, only the metal and his skin. It was slow because he wanted her to wait, to be trembling with uncertainty about if he would really take her ass. She said no, and he wouldn't go against her consent. However it didn't mean he couldn't make her wonder, or test her limits to see if she might one day let him. A finger to tease her would be enough. 

“On your knees, face the wall.” He said to her. Andora was only able to see the padding because his headlight was pointed towards it. She obeyed and got on her knees, her back towards him as she gripped her bedding to brace herself. He lowered himself behind her, pressing himself against her, letting her feel his thick length against the small of her back. She shivered at the heat of his body contrasting the cooler metal, feeling skin and armor together was exhilarating. He spread her legs open and rubbed himself against her dripping center. 

“Din... I've never...please be gentle.” She begged him softly, really thinking she was submitting herself to something that she didn't want. Din moaned, she was doing it for him and that made him even more determined that she only felt pleasure. 

“I'll take you to heaven.” He vowed softly to her, caressing her hips and rubbing his cock against her, getting slicked up before gently positioning himself at her pussy, pushing just the tip inside, her moan loud and relieved. He kept still, determined this time to keep control. “Get me ready for your other hole, get me nice and soaked so I don't have to use the lube.” He found it in her bed sheets and put it right in front of her face so she could see his ‘intent’. He groaned at the way she clenched so hard around his cock he nearly slipped out. She slowly lowered herself on his cock, his thigh plates taking her weight as she was impaled on him. “Such a tight hole, how could your ass possibly take me when I am already wrecking your cunt.” He was teasing her, opening the lube and letting her see in the small light from his headlamp how he squirted a copious amount on his fingers. “Spread yourself for me.” He rumbled against her ear, her back feeling his chest plate and his bare arms around her. Her hands spread her cheeks, her face down in her bedding with a mix of shame and need. He could see his cock buried in her pussy as her puckered hole was on display for him. Din started not with his fingers but with the tube, putting the small opening for the lubricant on the tight ring of muscles before pushing it into her. The surprised little yip she made was endearing, and he could feel her walls around his cock tighten up with her tension. She buried her face into the bedding and let out a confused wail as he squeezed the tube and she could feel the cold lubricant gush inside her now, her hips squirming but she didn't pull away. He slowly pulled the tube away and set it next to her face. It had been a fresh tube and now it was half empty, her shivering as she understood that he had just put that much inside her. 

Din didn't move his hips at all, his own breathing heavy as he started to push his lubed finger into her, his hand stroking her back to help her breath through it. Her walls squeezed his cock for dear life as her body tensed, and he kept his finger steady as he praised her, sinking into the knuckle. He soothed her, caressed her, told her how amazing she felt. She started to breathe again, not realizing she had held her breath. “It feels weird.” He chuckled at her assessment, slowly pulling his finger out a little before sliding back in. “Ah...it's so slimy and cold.” She could feel his finger inside and the presence of his finger encouraged the lube to drip deeper. “How big is your finger?” She lamented as he slowly built up a pace with his finger working on stretching her, his other hand on her clit, gently stroking her pleasure button. It was almost too much for Din as she clenched painfully hard around his cock, making him groan before rubbing her clit a little harder. 

“Relax for me beautiful, I know it's not what you want, but I'm so proud of you doing it for me.” His cock throbbed inside her pussy as he tried to get her to relax. “That you'll let me do something this dirty to you.” She could tell from the light reflecting on the walls that he was staring at where he had his appendages buried inside her. “Let me show you how much I want you.” He was feeling her muscles relax, the lube helping his finger glide through her resistance. “Let me kill those fears about your magic.” He was getting heated, still not moving his cock from how tight she was, but he could feel how wet she was, her juices dripping down his thighs as his finger worked her clit. “Your magic isn't stronger than me.” He was pumping his finger into her faster, watching her bite her blankets as she tried to keep her voice down. “I want to rutt this little hole, I'm going to fill it with my cock.” Her hands were shaking at his words, and he looked at the vocal readout on her muffled moans, smirking at the arousal in her voice. “Try it. Use your magic to make me stop.” He let his voice drop to the same rough tone he used on his bounties. 

“Stop.” She whimpered out weakly, her breathing shaky and he just pumped his finger more. He made a tisk sound. 

“You didn't even try, I know what your voice looks like when you're using magic. Try again.” He lightly pinched her clit. 

“Stop.” She said louder, trying to get her power into her voice. She wanted him to be right, for him to be stronger than her magic. He pulled his hand from her clit and gently tugged her head back so he could hear her better. “Stop.” She felt it this time, just a little in her voice. He chuckled and finally moved his hips, giving her a single slow thrust into her quivering pussy. Andora wailed as he didn't move his hips again, just his finger testing her insides. “I want you to stop.” Her voice was firm, her pussy stretched to him, aching for more and full of her demand. She used her magic. He stopped his finger and she was simultaneously relieved and horrified. She felt tears in her eyes because she was just controlling him. “Din...you were wro-ahhh” He pushed a second finger into her ass, it was too much, the lube helped but not enough, pain sparked from the stretch. Her hands falling away to grip at her bedding as he kept working to stretch her.

“Did you say something to me? Because all I can think about is how sore you'll be when I finish with you.” His voice was indifferent to the groans of discomfort she made, but his other hand in her hair softened it's grip and resumed caressing her back reassuringly. He felt her pussy fluttering around his cock, and he wanted to just give them both release. But he needed to finish this mission first. It was agony to pull out from her, her walls gripped him like a vice and it was only her own wetness that helped him slip free. If he stayed he'd lose control. He had overcome her command, able to push through it because he wanted to prove her wrong. Din set his filters to block that particular vocal pattern, wanting to make sure it wouldn't work next time. “Want to try again? See if your little magic trick will stop a Mandalorian. It won't, and you're going to cum from this because I told you to.” Andora couldn't hold it back, burying her face into her bed as she climaxed. His fingers kept pumping her hole, sliding in a third finger and it dragged out her release. He pressed his body closer, letting her feel his weight to ground her from her orgasm. When she stopped trembling he nuzzled his helmet to her. “I'm so proud of you, you took so much more than I hoped.” He did extract his fingers slowly to give her some rest, cleaning the mess since she was still a boneless heap on the cot. Picking her up and lying on her cot, her on top of him to not crush her. The cot sagged from the weight, creaking but it seemed to hold. He was still hard but he didn't feel he could push her any further tonight, content to have her in his arms. “Do you believe me now?” He hummed, stroking her as she curled into him, neither of them bothered by the plates of armor, for him a second skin even without the fabric layers, and for her an interesting sensation being hot and cold, hard metal and his soft touches. She felt his hard cock still and moved to straddle him, rubbing herself against him. He groaned, trying to tell her she didn't have to. 

“I want to Din.” She slowly sank her pussy onto his cock, mewling as he filled her again, feeling him at the back of her channel, pressing into her cervix. He groaned in relief as her warmth took him in, watching her take him from this angle was incredible, her face flushed, her breasts bouncing as she rocked against him. His hands gripped her hips, his knees bent to help him get leverage to rock into her. She gripped his arms helping to keep balanced as she started to slide further on his shaft. His headlight showed her exactly where he was looking, the light roaming from her bouncing breasts to their joined flesh, but she felt her insides squeeze harder when he looked at her face, her eyes had to be shut but that he wanted to see her face made her feel amazing. The cot was loudly protesting their movements but they didn't care, all they needed was to chase their shared climax. He helped her move up and down faster and harder, she was so close, she was about to reach her end. He was grunting and moaning as she chanted his name. The sound of his hips bucking into her own, the wet slap of skin to skin, her juices easing his thrusts and her own eager rocking. She was pulling up to sink herself back down again, him pulling back to help drive his cock deeper into her when suddenly the cot collapsed under them. 

“AHHH!” Din was a bit stunned at the sudden change in their heights, his body and the cot padding soaking up most of the fall but she had still cried out in pain. As he reassessed he felt his tip inside of her, but it was much tighter, and her insides squeezed him differently. She was stiff as a board on his lap. “Din…” She whimpered and he slowly looked towards her, trying to keep the light from her eyes, he could see tears leaking from her and he reached up to caress her face. “Din...it’s...when we fell…” He looked down and he was torn between groaning in dismay and laughing at the irony. Part of his cock was buried into her ass. Thankfully it wasn’t very deep. The lube hadn’t dried up yet, and his cock was liberally coated in her own natural juices. He caressed her thighs to help keep her calm. 

“It’s alright, Just slowly pull yourself up. I won’t move, I promise.” She nodded, and he let her grip his other hand for support. He had to bite his lip to keep his hips from moving as she pulled up agonizingly slow, her little sounds making his cock twitch. With a shallow breath she started trying to pull up, getting caught on the head of his cock, she winced as she tried to pull off. “Breathe, you’ll tense up more if you don’t.” His reminder made her take a deep breath and she tried to relax, the adjustment causing her to slide back a little bit on his shaft. He moaned as she did, squeezing her hip to keep himself under control. He had been so close to release, and his cock hadn’t felt an issue with its new location. Andora felt his grip tighten on her, hearing how good this made him feel. It wasn’t as terrible as she expected. It was really different, a stretch she was not used to, and yes it had hurt a bit, but she’d felt worse pain. Perhaps the way he had prepared her really was making a difference, and the climax he had given her had been so different. “Do you need me to help you?” He was panting as she stayed there on his cock, and she looked down at him, her knees pressing more into his sides. Her hand gripping his moved his hand towards her pussy, pressing his fingers towards her wet folds and her clit. “Andora I was teasing, I won’t ever make you do something you don’t want.” She could hear that he meant it, but there was also a hint of hopefulness. 

“I just...to help me relax please.” She begged him softly and he couldn’t deny her, his fingers rubbing her clit with a tender rhythm as she kept taking breaths and trying to relax herself enough to slide down his shaft. He bit his lip, using every bit of his control to stay still for her. “I want to...I want to please you so much Din. I want to be yours.” His groan encouraged her to take more of him inside, and as weird as it felt, the pain was ebbing away as he rubbed her clit. It was absolutely tortutre for him to watch as she slowly moved up and down his cock, inch by inch as she tested her limits on him at her pace when all his body wanted was to move and cum. It was agonizing to be patient, to let her stretch to him, his panting breaths fogging up his visor. 

“Andora I can’t, I can’t take it. Pull off and let me just finish.” He begged, ready to stroke himself to completion if it would end this. She moaned louder and he felt her hips sitting on his, looking down to see she was taking him to the hilt. His fingers rubbed her clit hard and fast, and she climaxed again. She leaned down and kissed at his neck and nibbled at his throat, feeling how overheated his skin was. His hands were on her hips, and she could feel bruises where he had gripped her. She slowly started to pull up, and his entire body trembled as he tried to keep control. She slid down again, and he was going to lose his mind. 

“Make me yours…I want you so much Din.” She moaned into his ear, and he lost it. He rolled them over, her back on the cold floor, his armor and skin pressing against her as her legs were pressed forward as he started to pump his hips, unable to care if she was moaning in pleasure or not, he needed to release, he needed to let it all go. Shutting down the light he ripped his helmet off, leaving them in the dark as he crushed his lips to hers, his tongue in her mouth. Her hands in his hair as she let him invade her mouth and muffle her cries as he took her ass. As he finally came he pulled his mouth from her, kissing her throat and cradling her close as he pulled from her. He rolled them back onto the now destroyed cot, pulling her blanket over them to keep them warm as he felt his body relax. He looked around for his helm, dragging it over to put it back on as he put the pillow under his head and let her rest in the crook of his arm. He’d have to buy her a better cot. 

* * *

Chapter end. 


	15. Loose Lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May the 4th be with all of you!  
> Happy Star Wars Day.  
> Review responses at the bottom.

Din woke up and felt Andora still curled into his side. The ship was silent except for the soft breathing and the gentle hum of the air intake system passively venting in air from the outside since they were in a breathable atmosphere. He felt rested, and as he felt her shift against him there was a rush of contentment. She was mostly hogging the blanket, her body pressed close to steal his heat. He should move, clean up, get an update on their hosts schedule, and see if any of his searches for the jedi master had turned up anything. Even as he wanted to it was hard for him to pull away from her and leave her soft body. As he tried to move her eyes opened and looked up to him with a soft smile, only for her mouth to open in a yawn. He couldn't fight his own, his hands lazily finding their way to her hips. 

“Don't go, it'll be cold without you.” Andora mumbled into his bicep, her feet wrapping between his legs to make extracting himself difficult. 

“I have to, kid will want food soon, and I have to buy a better cot before we leave the planet. Thankfully the work here is easy. Can get it done in a few hours.” He noticed her limbs only entangled him more. 

“You can't just go when I feel so sore.” She blushed and looked away from him. He couldn't help himself from smirking under his helmet. 

“I thought you were a fast healer?” He teased, playfully tapping her rump, watching her squirm from the touch. 

“You keep finding the loopholes in my magic.” She admitted softly, and her hands traced over his body, caressing his scars tenderly. “Din...I meant what I said.” She gingerly moved to sit up, wincing at the soreness but she didn't regret it. It might not be her favorite but it had felt great in the end. “I want to stay with you but I…”

“I don't care if you wear it or not Andora. I want you, as you are.” He sat up with her and pressed his forehead to hers, staring at her through his visor. “Get yourself ready when you feel up to it.” He gently stroked her cheek before he pulled away and striped off his metal armor to be in just his helmet. Going to the fresher to wash up and she pulled her blanket around her naked body. She sighed softly as she laid back down, easing the soreness she felt, biting her lip as she let her mind drift back to how last night had felt. It made her heart swell up at the idea that she was wanted. Any rational girl in her place would be worried that they didn’t know each other, that they could change their minds or that it was just shallow attraction. But she was a full grown woman and she was so ready to not care. What she needed to know about him she did. He was a devout father, a great fighter, and when he was relaxed he could actually be funny and sweet. He was brilliant, she may not be able to fly anymore but she still knew how. He was calculating the hyperspace jumps, not the computers. This ship had the bare minimum requirements for ship automation, all of the flying was his skill. He put his plans into motion and wasn't afraid to accept help, his ego took a backseat to his mission. He said that she wasn't sleeping with an idealized mandalorian, but to her, she was. Hand drifting to her stomach, Andora couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement that he might make good on his word. She was all too eager to try as many times as possible, and then some more for good measure. The shower stopped and she heard him getting dressed. When he came out she looked up at him, hand cradling her stomach with a needy look. He felt his cock stir just seeing her naked and wanting. Still he took a deep breath and controlled himself. 

“How does your shoulder feel?” Andora reached to the spot finding the pain gone. She wasn't sure why it was gone but she felt back to normal. 

“Seems that the pain in my backside is the only thing to report.” Andora pulled the sheet around her as she stood up from the destroyed cot, blushing as she did actually still feel a bit sore, in a good way. She could hear him try and hush his own chuckle. “Laugh it up armor boy, everytime we have sex you end up having to pay for something.” She teased him, making her own way to the refresher, leaving the blanket outside as she handles her own business. The vibrant red of her colored hair was a bit garish under the harsh lighting of the ship, and she did truly miss the purple. She had been using purple for years now so it was a bit like looking at someone else. Maybe if she threw in some blue on top for a dark purple would help her feel more herself. She did have some left. Having cleaned herself she exited the refresher, grateful for the towel he passed for her to use to dry herself as he watched. 

“How did you get those scars? With your healing, it doesn't seem like you should have.” He was sitting on a crate as he watched her, seeing how comfortable she was with him watching her. She pulled on some clean bottoms before she started the process of binding down her breasts, and he watched as the soft flesh he had enjoyed playing with got pressed down further and further, now only a moderate swell. Even though he had gripped her so hard she should have bruises around her hips, it was almost completely faded finger marks. 

“Oh...Durgolosk venom is pretty nasty. It’s a paralytic, and the barbs that carry it do some damage. It has to since all the other prey on the world has scaly bodies. When it hit my flesh it was pretty bad. I mean not enough to stop me, but yeah...healing powers took a while to fix it.” She pulled on a simple black top and black skin tight shorts, beginning to clean up her bedding and the towels for a wash. 

“The sigil?” Din reached up to his own mud horn sigil. 

“Zalle helped me pull out the venom gland and...well...we used the venom and its teeth to help carve it in. I was out of commission for a week because I had to keep recarving it to make sure it stayed. Tokor took care of me while I was healing up.” She finished putting the fabric into the wash bin and was letting it soak, coming to him and squeezing his hand. “If your next question is about the tattoo, it was needles that went under my skin, with beskar based ink. The tattoo looks so clean because my skin healed up pretty much as soon as it pulled out.” He rolled his head back to look at her, giving her an exaggerated head tilt since she couldn’t read his face. 

“Any questions for me?” He returned the hand squeeze before getting up to bring out the food to start making the kid his breakfast since he could hear the toy’s bells jingling as the kid woke up. Andora moved to open the bunk and then the pod, the kid had a very calm face as he reached up to be carried. He was easily in Andora’s arms, and she brought his toys with him as she set up his play mat and sat down with him to let him stretch his small body and look around, reprocessing his environment. He was looking between the two adults, like he could see something but he had no idea what it meant. 

“What planet are you from?” She asked calmly, Pirpak grabbing her hands with his hand and making some small squatting motions. She obliged and lifted her hands up, the kid giggling as he was now dangling a little off the floor, swinging himself excitedly off his impromptu swing. Din paused in his slicing of the fruit for the kid, trying to decide if he was ready to share that with her. 

“I was rescued from a village on Concord Dawn when the separatists droids attacked. My sponsor was the one that flew me from the town. I was part of the fighting corp before joining the tribe and taking on the duty of provider.” 

“Concord Dawn…” He could hear Andora’s mind turning over the information as he started to mix the fruit with the grains before pouring hot water to soften it all. “Where were your parents from?” 

“Concord Dawn...They were farmers for the recruitment camp.” Din waited till the bowl of food wasn’t steaming anymore before turning around with the meal, the kid gracefully jumping from Andora’s hands and sitting down as he looked up excitedly at the food Dad was bringing him. 

“Din…” Her voice was a mix of emotions as he read the data on his screen. “Thank you for sharing.” Whatever she had been about to say she seemed to swallow down. Din sat down on the floor, letting the kid clamber onto his lap and grab the bowl to start slurping down the sweet porridge. 

“They were not warriors...I had to earn my way to becoming a warrior.” He could almost feel her wanting to argue that he was not a foundling, that he was a born Mandalorian. The same way she was. That his helm rule shouldn’t apply.

But he wasn’t and it did. She came from a family who very literally, for better or for worse, was born to fight. She had fought Imps at 16, her brother and her father fought, and every Vizsla he had heard of also seemed to live and die for the fight. He had worked hard to prove he was a warrior, to overcome the kindness his parents had taught him as a child in order to beat his foes into a submissive heap. To take life without hesitation while she had to actively stop herself from hurting others. He was grateful she was holding her argument about it. 

“I wonder if the village was close to any of my Dad’s old patrol routes.” She instead offered a more neutral subject for them to discuss. 

“How old was your Dad?” The kid was a bit messy as he ate, Din taking his gloves off to help scoop off the spilled food and put it back in the bowl. 

“Oh...He was in his early twenties when he met my mom on Concord Dawn. He never liked to be honest about his age, said if he was honest about it meant that his time might come sooner. I was four when the Empire rose up and he was in his early thirties...my brother was about ten at the time. And when he passed a few years ago he was either early sixties or late fifties.” Andora was curious, if he was born on Concord Dawn, he should be listed in the registries. But without a last name it would take a much longer to find him, nor should she. He hadn’t asked her to do that, and she didn’t need to do that. He was Din, a strong Mandalorian, and the man she wanted to stay with. Everything else was just...extra. 

“Maybe it was. I don’t remember much from back then.” The kid was messily swallowing the meal, his clawed fingers going inside and playing with the bits of fruit, his robes getting dirty. Din had cut the pieces of fruit small enough that the kid could swallow them easily, but just in case Din watched. Soon the kid was just fussing with the meal, playing with it and Din put the bowl aside, using the kid's robe to wipe up the mess and wipe his hands and then taking that robe off and asking Andora to add it to the wash, the kid excitedly turning to climb up on his Dad in pretty much just his under garment, swinging from Din’s outstretched arm and jumping up and down on Din’s shoulders. “Sayr play. Rena!” (Play.) Din was smiling under his helmet, picking up the kid and gently putting the kid on his back, fingers gently running up and down the kid's sides, the kid's eyes lighting up in surprise and his mouth opening wide as he started to giggle and laugh loudly at the tickling. Andora cleaned up the ship, her heart clenching at how sweet the moment was. A knock came at the ramp of the ship, Andora going to deal with it so Din could keep playing. As the ramp opened Kejena was waiting, and behind her was a cluster of familiar faces. Andora rushed down and excitedly hugged her friends, Having missed them in the years since she had stopped seeing them. They walked away from the ship as the large group all chatted excitedly, bombarding her with questions and apologies for the lack of communication.

Din pulled the kid’s extra robe on as he stopped the tickling, the kid a bit dazed from the stimulation and ready for a moment of rest. He could hear the chatter, listening in as he let the kid relax and walk around the cargo hold, digesting his breakfast. He pulled his rifle over his shoulder, getting ready to go out and buy the cot, planning to take the kid with him to give the kid another chance to see the city before they left with the musicians tomorrow. He was moving a bit slower than he should as he listened in to the messy chatter of the group outside.

“So who is your new man?” The voice was teasing her. 

“What do you mean?” Andora squeaked at the question. 

“Sweetie...we all heard the noises last night. This whole hanger echoes.” Din felt his own face flush at the very awkward statement, delaying his exit a bit more now. Poor Andora must be as red as her hair. 

“Next time close the vents before getting all naughty.” Another voice teased her. 

“Oh by the blights, you lot were supposed to be performing at the show, not listening to me!” She sounded so distressed, and he should go help her, but he wouldn’t be better equipped for the awkwardness. He would let her handle this battle. 

“Why aren’t you reporting that you’re safe, why keep up this facade?” A more serious voice broke through the chorus of sexual jokes. It was like some sort of spell broke, the teasing and laughter abruptly ending. 

“Because I’m safe with them not knowing where I am.” Her voice was firm, and he noticed on his readout that she used her magic, his scanners easily blocking it out. “You can’t tell anyone I am here. If I get taken back it will be really bad for all of us. Trust me. Everyone is safer if we just keep this a secret.” Din slipped the kid onto the bag, dipping out of the ship while it seemed she had everyone’s attention. “Besides, when have I ever made things easy?” She joked out nervously, a grumble among her friends before Kejena started letting them haze her about her playing again, then demanding she perform so they could see if she still had the goods. 

It had been a blow to her pride but not completely unexpected that her flute skills were no longer top grade. She was fine, just not orchestral quality anymore. Thankfully her singing voice was in better shape, but since she needed to kind of keep a low profile she would not be doing more than back up vocals. Some of the original members from when this was a band and not a full scale orchestra were wondering if having her back meant they could pull out some of the more intense dance ‘stuns’ for the more traditional pieces. They hadn’t really done any since going more mainstream to avoid alienating the audiences that were uninterested in watching mock battles. Many of the men and some of the women in the crowd to welcome her seemed to be really interested in the revival of the pieces, but the pacifists outnumbered them, and they all shared a sad look. Maybe they could perform some of those pieces here on the ship just for themselves? The overwhelming scolding of the pacifists against the warrior pieces was a defeating moment because Kejena didn’t stop them. Kejena and Andora once used to love those pieces but this brought back memories of why Andora had started to pull away in the first place. This group had been started to help preserve their musical heritage, which was deeply interwoven with their warrior heritage, but it was losing that. Andora wasn’t mad, Kejena had a family to provide for, everyone here did. Andora excused herself from the crowd, which was easier since they needed to go get ready for the show.

Andora had finished washing up the beddings and Pirpak’s robes. Din and the kid were still out shopping, and she decided to take this moment to meditate. She pulled out Tarre’s helm, closing the ship’s ramp for privacy as she slipped it on her head, kneeling as she cleared her mind and focused on her breathing, trying to peer into the darkness for clarity. Her heartbeat seemed to be echoing in her ears like a steady drum beat as she let herself be taken over by the will of the force and the voice of her ancestor. Her breathing was slow and even, her eyes shut tight and the darkness she was seeing a soft nothingness. The helm provided mostly just remembrances of the events it had been present for, and while not helpful to her now, it was at least calming. She couldn’t help but feel her mind drift to her family, the heavy weight of the older style beskar helm weighing on her as a physical reminder of the burden her family’s name imparted, its history in all its aspects. 

“Please...help me save our people.” She whispered to herself, trying to get some sort of answer from the only spirit she could commune with. Andora was pushing herself into the darkness, she needed answers, she needed to get this right. The darkness only seemed to grow deeper. With a strong resolve she began to dive deeper, needing to find something. A bright wonderfully loving light exploded into her vision. Suddenly her eyes opened in surprise as small hands tapped on her own as Pirpak called for her to come back. Big brown eyes looking up at her with worry. 

“Anra nalya.” (stay) Her heart broke at the scared tone in the kids voice. She reached down and picked him up, hugging him gently to her chest as his claws smacked on the sides of the helm, trying to reach her cheeks.

“Did you see anything?” Din’s voice spoke from in front of her, Andora looking up in surprise. She checked the time, realizing she had been out for a few hours. “I kept watch. The kid couldn’t wait anymore.” 

“No...it was all just. Darkness. I couldn’t see anything no matter how deep I went.” She stayed kneeling, their laundry up and drying in the ship and she noticed the much larger cot and bedding that was leaned up against the hull of the ship. 

“Maybe when we find another Jedi, even if they aren’t right for the kid...they might have some useful skills for you.” He offered, knowing she must have thought it really important if she put the helm on. The kid was making to pull it off her, and Din moved to grab it to put it away while she kept the kid in her arms.

“No...it’s fine.” Slowly she stood from her kneeled position, Pirpak tugging on her red locks and tried to put them in his mouth. Tossing her head to move her hair from his reach Andora paced a little. “Plenty of people go through life without visions and do just fine. I shouldn’t rely on them so much.” 

“Isn’t that my line?” Din chuckled as he locked the helm away. 

“Then you say it.” She rolled her eyes at him, once more extricating her hair from the kid’s attempts to suck on it. 

“You shouldn’t rely on your powers so much.” The glare she gave him wasn’t too convincing since her lips were upturned in a repressed smile.

* * *

“Hello, this is Ane Skugg. I am a technician with the Battle Child Orchestra, I am calling to report that Andora Vizsla is traveling with us on our ship the ‘Light Marauder’. We picked her up on Canto Bight.” Ane was at the transmitter station in the casino, huffing in annoyance as she waited for the person on the other end of the transmission to respond. She was being transferred to another line, Ane bouncing her foot as she waited. As Senator Ordot’s face popped up she snapped to attention, so confused at being directed to him. People were milling about behind her as she was on the call. 

“Is she alone?” The senator asked, a bit anxious. 

“No, she’s with some guy in traditional armor. She seems to want to stay with him.” The pair were weird, definitely at odds with the meaker musicians. 

“Did you tell any other agencies about this?” His voice almost cracked with nervousness. 

“No, I called Mandalore directly. Do I get the credits?” Ane really wanted the 500,000 credits, she was tired of the nomadic lifestyle of being with the orchestra, and she had joined after Andora had left so she had no personal bond to the woman. 

“Just stay on the line for a moment. I will send someone to you.” Ane nodded as she was put back on hold, looking at her watch to make sure she wasn’t going to miss check in for the show tonight. She was part of the tech crew so they could manage without her but she wanted to not lose her job till she had the credits in hand. A Nikto had been listening in on the call, a smirk on his face as he took down notes. He walked off with a limp towards the lifts to go and inform the Hutt about the new potential acquisition. Master Grukkus would be very delighted to hear about this. 

It was about 40 standard minutes since the Senator put her on hold, Ane started to get nervous about how long this was taking. Footsteps approached her from behind, and she could feel eyes on her. Turning around she saw a group of men looking at her, the man closest to her had blonde hair, green eyes, and tan skin, a cocky smirk on his face. The men were all dressed in casual clothes.

“Ane Skugg?” She nodded meekly, the men flanking the man speaking to her kept their eyes on the room, not actually watching her. He reached over and entered a code into the call, the call ending and he gripped her upper arm, using it to direct her to stand up. “The senator sent us. We’re here to pay you for your help.” Ane swallowed thickly, wondering if maybe she should have listened to the warning she was given about keeping hush about this. These men seemed a bit off, and no way they got here so quickly from Mandalore. “Let’s go.” The man gripping her purred, and she felt bruises forming on her arm as he pulled her from the transmission booth and started to walk her out towards the workers exit, and away from the security camera. They had a land speeder parked, the man that had been dragging her along tossing her in while the other 5 men sat with her, a blaster being pressed into her side, Ane starting to cry as she realized this was not going to be a payday for her. “Alright boys, out in the desert now, deep enough the animals won’t expose the body for a while.” He grabbed her chin and turned her to look at him, her tears starting to drip down her cheeks. “Thanks for the help dear. Saves me a lot of trouble. Now be good and don’t humiliate yourself on the way out. Some dignity in your fate yeah? Sulye saryr an, aruetii pabida meg val kariya.” (After all, traitors get what they deserve.) One of the men in the speeder covers her mouth as the blaster presses into her side harder. Braig waves them off as he heads back to the casino to see if his winning streak would continue. Since he knew which ship Andora was leaving with, no rush. He could get her when they were out of the atmosphere and away from the security forces on the planet. He sat at the sabbac table, his little brother Xig coming to join him. 

“Hey, I checked at the guild office, it seems like ‘our friend’ was working the last couple days, and he moved his ship yesterday. No one spotted exactly where he went.” Xig had a rubbish hand, folding already as his brother kept going. 

“Don’t worry, it seems our friend is going on tour with the band here tonight. We’ll have to catch up with him tomorrow when they leave for the next show. No tickets for tonight.” Braig put down a winning hand, scooping his chips and tossing a tip to the dealer before the next hand was dealt. Xig shifted uncomfortably at the news, staring at yet another terrible hand. “You gonna be up for this. I know you still have a soft spot for your sis-in-law. If you wanna sit it out you can stay on the ship.” Xig was a bit surprised, Braig was never this considerate. 

“She’ll be okay, won’t she?” Xig’s voice was a bit softer, the younger man sounding worried. 

“You know how stubborn she is, she fought me every step of the way. She was too stubborn to leave then, can’t imagine she’s more agreeable now.” His voice was dripping with threat. “She’ll make me work for it.” Xig had seen the things his brother had done to interrogate prisoners. Braig won another hand, passing some chips to keep his brother in the game. “Maybe if you ask she’ll give up the ‘recipe’ to you. Save us a lot of unneeded drama. She’s working on the same show as our friend.” Xig felt the pit in his stomach at the meaning. Either he got Andora to talk or Braig did. “But don’t worry, tonight we just relax. We’ll meet up with them tomorrow.” Xig lost this hand too, his brother buying him in for another round, even though Xig couldn’t really focus on the cards in front of him.

* * *

Cara wasn’t exactly comfortable with wearing the very conservative robes but if she didn’t want to get harassed about her tattoos then she needed to suck it up. The Armorer also put a robe on, leaving the hood down for now till they reached the city whose lights were so bright they could see it all the way across the desert. The ship was parked a good distance away, and it would probably take a couple days of walking to reach the city. Thankfully the Armorer had a speeder bike in the cargo bay of the ship. It was just the one, so they would have to travel together. The ramp was lowered and the speeder bike unloaded, the women loading up with weapons that they could easily hide under the baggy clothing. The desert was cold, but the faint blue of the sky behind them told them it was going to be morning in a few hours. If they wanted to avoid the worst of the sun’s heat they needed to move. Locking the ship the Armorer set out a small satchel of food and scrap metal under the ship’s landing gear. 

“To bribe Jawas to leave the ship alone.” The woman explained as she saw the look Cara gave her. The woman easily mounted the bike, giving Cara a chance to get on before they rode off. Cara had night vision goggles on, scanning the barren environment around them. A small flurry of kicked up sand was coming from the left, and seemed to be a land speeder heading back in. Suddenly the Armorer turned the bike sharply and started heading off to the left where the speeder was leaving from. 

“Hey! What gives?” Cara had nearly lost balance with the sharp turn. 

“Trace back where they are leaving from. No one comes out here for anything good.” The woman’s voice brokered no argument, and Cara realized that she was right. She traced back the trail the speeder was leaving behind, calling out the coordinates as the bike sped up, the wind whirling wildly around them as they moved towards the spot they could estimate the speeder left from. When they reached the point they could see tracks in the sand leading further away, the Armorer carefully lowering the speed to follow them without disrupting the trail. Care had to take off the goggles as the sun started to rise, pulling the hood up to cover her face from the sun. 

“There should be a shovel in the compartment. Get it out.” The Armorer kept creeping the bike forward, looking for something specific in the sand. Cara felt her stomach sink, shifting on the bike to pull out the compact shovel from the compartment. The bike stopped near a freshly disturbed pile of sand. “Be careful. If we dig too wildly we might disrupt the air tube and they’ll suffocate.” Cara got off after the Armorer, the woman pulling out a tarp to cover them as they would be here awhile in the sun. 

“You don’t mean…” Cara looked at the center of the sand pile, seeing a very thin straw barely poking out over the sand, her stomach sinking in dread. The pair silently got to work, starting at the edges of the mound to help lighten the weight of the sand on the victim below and prevent it from sliding back on top of the unlucky person. It was Midday when they finally unearthed the poor woman from the sand. She was unconscious, the weight of the sand having made breathing nearly impossible. The bike couldn’t hold all three of them. Cara cursed as she slung the unconscious woman onto the bike and strapped her onto the passenger seat to prevent her from coming loose on her way back to the city. “I’ll come back as quick as I can.” Cara was leaving the water and food with the Armorer since she had volunteered to stay under the tarp while Cara took the woman for help. 

“My forge is hotter than this. Just go.” She spoke calmly, almost dismissively to Cara. with a roar the speeder bike turned back on and was speeding towards Canto Bight. As she approached the city she noticed a ship in a low orbit that received a passenger transport before it jumped out of the atmosphere into hyperspace, the sonic boom of that was deafening and there was no way that ship had clearance for that maneuver. Cara looked at the unconscious woman tied to the bike, wondering if she should just dump her inside the city limits to avoid dealing with police. Even as she thought that Cara knew she couldn't. She looked for any sort of medical bay she could leave the woman and be on her way back out. 

* * *

Din groaned as he sat up from the floor of the cargo bay. His head throbbing and his sensors going haywire from the electrical overload of taking the full blast of the electric whip to the chest. Everything hurt. Slowly he stood up, or at least tried. Everything was too loud, and yet none of the noise was making any sense. The only good news was his sensors going crazy meant his helmet was still firmly on his head. He managed to move onto a knee, his hands still on the floor to support his weight. His nerves were on fire and twitching out of his control, his arms shaking. A woman was kneeling at his side, her worried voice all just being blurred together as his brain tried to make sense of what had just happened. He turned towards her, his spirits lifting as he saw Pirpak safe and sound cradled in the woman’s arms. His son was safe. Good. He must have won?

Looking up from the crying face of Pirpak he was expecting a worried set of green eyes and vibrant red hair. Silver eyes and white hair greeted him instead. Everything clicked into place with a sickening snap like bone breaking. Suddenly everything was in hyper focus, the kid crying out for Andora as people around the cargo bay started to come out of hiding from behind the equipment boxes. He wasn’t the only one down. Band members were still twitching on the ground as the electric shocks kept running through their bodies.   
Other band members had blasters drawn and pulled on the armored death troopers, their helmets pulled off and tossed aside. Their armor had electric scorch marks as well. As Din looked around he already knew from the kid's distraught crying that he had failed. Andora was gone, but they had the Imps...so where was she? 

“Security forces are on their way over, we have to hide you and the baby.” Kejena and her husband helped pick Din up and drag him deeper into their ship, towards the crew quarters to stash them while the security forces came to investigate. Din didn’t resist, letting them lock him and the kid away as he tried to console the infant. 

“Anra no nalya, Anra no nalya.” (Anra no stay) Din gingerly removed his chest plate, seeing the electric scorch marks that had heat burned him even through the beskar. He cradled the kid to his chest, trying to put together what had happened. It had been such a blur. A young man had come running to the Marauder, begging him and Andora to get going now before they were attacked. Only...the young man had gotten shot by one of the Death Troopers in the leg before being tossed out into the hanger bay. Andora had been so reckless. She punched the Death Trooper that had his blaster to her head. Somehow she hadn’t gotten shot for that. The two had been yelling before suddenly...Din had been trying to stash the kid and get his rifle to take the Imps out from the open back ramp of the ship. He had come out to get them off the ship when...the ion grenade and the thugs with the electric whips, the same kind slavers used. In the confusion he had gotten knocked down and...he couldn’t remember anything but Andora begging them to leave him alone before...before she was gone. “Anra no nalya.” Pirpak hiccuped sadly into Din’s chest. 

“Ni malyasa'yr pabida kaysh norac. Ni srusala.” (I'll get her back. I promise.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my reviewers thank you so much, to all the kudos leavers, thank you, and all of you that have read this far, I appreciate your time so much. I hope this chapter is exciting for all of you. 
> 
> Anne: I think you and Andora are on the same page lol. She want all he got. 
> 
> TaffetaBlue: I am glad you are enjoying my story, and thank you for explaining some of the rules that are established for the language. I am going to keep with the terms I have started with since it's already pretty prevalent in the chapters, we'll just treat it like a subdialect since the online translator I used has been pretty consistent. 
> 
> ALuver01: Oh my goodness. I am really honored you wrote such a huge long review. I am glad that you feel the characters are in line with canon and that my OC fits in easily within the story dynamic. I am glad that my perverted tastes are shared. Same here for me, I am not super into anal but I just had to try it with them and yeah, it was way hotter than I expected it to be.


	16. Ke'gyce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay, emotionally been struggling but I am continuing the story. Next chapter will be up sooner. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience with me readers!
> 
> Review response: 
> 
> allebiouqruop: Thank you for your kind words. I am touched you like it so much. 
> 
> RoxyPeanut: So sorry for the delay, but I hope to do a good job now and moving forward.

The streets seemed to be empty, the event earlier having spooked many of the residents as Din was walking back from the guild office. He had Andora’s puck, and a blank tracking fob. He could make one once he got back to the ship and entered in her chain code from her data pad. His sensors were still offline, the wiring completely fried by the ion blast, the ship thankfully was in better shape as the full work up had increased the shielding around the electronics so it was going to be a faster repair. He heard the sound of a speeder coming up behind him, it slowing down before idling up beside him. He had his blaster drawn and pointed on the bike before a wave of relief washed over him. 

“What happened? You look like you got your ass kicked.” Cara was smirking at him from the bike, a second figure observing him from under a hood.The pair were dirty from the desert sand, but as he recognized the friendly face he lowered his weapon. 

“Ion grenade.” Was all he could really answer, the bacta shot he gave himself earlier could only do so much. Her face fell as she reassessed him. “What are you doing here?” 

“We had to come after you, the Imps came back and forced us to give up the Crest’s code.” Din noticed the still healing black eye Cara had, seeing they hadn’t given it up easy. 

“Did they get her?” He recognized the voice as the armorer, relieved she was here. She could help repair his armor so he could get moving faster. 

“Someone else ambushed us. Dragged her off while I was stunned.” Din kept walking towards the Crest, the bike following at pace. “I need a full repair. Sensors out.” 

“It’s a good thing I brought my tools.” The armorer spoke in a firm tone, like a mother scolding her child for ripping new clothes, the trio traveling to his ship so he could prepare for this hunt. 

* * *

The hum of the engines was running lowly in the background, the cargo hold was full of crates and boxes, and the room she was in was close to the cargo bay, having been stuffed in here quickly after she had put up a fight over being dragged onboard. The ship smelled of fuel, disinfectant, and plasma residue from weapons. She was already out of the cuffs trying to force the door open. She had rushed to keep them from yanking Din’s armor off after they caught him by surprise, when they picked her up and bailed on trying to rob Din because the Hutt said she was all they needed. She had broken the first assailants arm as he dragged her away, using the moves she had practiced with Din. No mercy in her movements, hoping she killed her opponent where she couldn’t bring herself to hurt Din. Unfortunately the stun baton to her back had given them enough time to drag her on and cuff her before they retreated. 

She stopped as she heard someone walking by, faking being back in her cuffs as they checked on her before they moved on, only interested in her still being in confinement. As soon as she couldn’t hear them nearby she was back out and trying to escape again. 

“I would advise against that Ms. Vizsla. Master Grakkus is arranging a better room if you are willing to wait.” Looking up at hearing a voice over the intercom, realizing she had not seen the camera before. She huffed in annoyance and kicked the door, in her shorts and a simple purple top with boots. She had been dressed for comfort, not for being kidnapped. “We left your escort intact as a show of good faith for you to work with us.” 

“After I fought your men off him.” She hissed at the camera. 

“Obviously you don’t want to be handed over to your own government, so cooperate with my Master and we will be able to keep you out of their reach. If you meet his needs he can make you quite comfortable.” 

“I don’t plan on being a harem girl. I spent way too much time earning my degree!” She made the rudest gesture she could with her limited number of limbs. The voice stopped talking to her and she stood there angrily, tossing the cuffs out the door’s windows as she paced like a caged bantha. 

It was a few hours before armed men came to the door, seeing the cuffs off and they put a cattle prod in and used it on her, sending her screaming to the floor as they rushed in to place a control collar on her before dragging her weakened body towards the room of the ship Master Grakkus had ordered her moved to. They leave her in the room on the chair as they take up guard positions around the table. It was an office with display cases. She focused her attention on the nearest display case, realizing very quickly what she was looking at. It was a missing Twi’lek relic that had been stolen a few years ago. The museum had lost five guards and the relic had never turned up. Looking at the other display cases she recognized the stolen pieces. Some of them had been taken from the sites before they had even been cataloged. 

“My collection is impressive no?” She turned at the deep guttural voice of the Hutt walking into the room. Her collar hummed, and she knew from experience that it was just waiting to be activated. Her only response was to narrow her eyes at him, sitting still as he walked in on his cybernetic legs to his throne like bench across the desk from her. “Of course I am sure as a historian you’ll say all of this belongs in a museum. But let's skip over that part shall we.” He chuckled in amusement at his own joke, calling for his Nikto servant to bring him something to smoke. “Since many of my pieces are...of questionable documentation…” He took a long puff from his hukka, blowing the smoke directly at her, raising a sluggish brow at her stoic glare. Seems she had a bit more spine than others he had sat in that chair from her profession. “I propose a deal. You will authenticate the pieces you can, and I in turn…” He loved the slightly spicy kick to the after taste of this particular brand, really letting his puff sit for a moment before exhaling it slowly, fixing her with his slotted eyes. “...will let you live...and as a bonus you won’t be…’entertainment’ while in my employment. You did work hard for your degree after all.” Grakkus laughed out, his men obediently joining in with him. He was used to the shimpering cries of females who feared being tossed like meat to his men, but when her expression failed to change from her stoic look of annoyance and disinterest he took another puff. “I can give it to you in writing if that wo-” 

“You’re lying.” Andora could already read it in his energy. “You plan on killing me no matter what I do for you. The only difference would be how long.” He gave her a shock, watching her writhe in pain. He would not tolerate being interrupted. Andora forced her body to cooperate again and sit up, hating that she was a prisoner again. All her time with Din had let her grow comfortable with disobedience, and she needed to forget all of that if she wanted to survive and escape. 

“You will authenticate pieces for me. And for being so rude...I might withdraw your bonus.” He smirked, thinking that would change her attitude, instead she just sat there head down, unresponsive. Well, it was a start. He snapped his fingers and the Nikto brought over a stack of documents, authenticity forms for relics. He really was going to make her sign her name to these stolen pieces. The idea of enabling the legalization of so much cultural theft made her more sick than his threats of assault. “Bring her a uniform since she’ll be staying a while.” Andora swallowed down her temper and reactions. He was trying to get them from her, just like the guards back at the camp. She would ‘obey’, but not give him the fear he was craving. The Nikto walked off to obey his orders, Grakkus motioning over for his other employees to bring over the historical items. 

“Should I authenticate counterfeits as well?” She said in a monotone as she looked over the artificially aged book, the first piece set down on the desk in front of her. 

“Is it a fake?” He growled out, his eyes narrowing in displeasure. Andora simply nodded a yes, pointing out how the pages had been faked by soaking the parchment in tea, and if he smelled it he would be able to tell. Grakkus waited till the Nikto got back, the servant setting the ‘uniform’ down before frantically scrolling through his data pad to find out who had sold Grakkus the fake. He sent some of his men out to kill the man. “I won't tolerate being lied to.” 

“Understood.” She made no move to the uniform which looked like a glorified bikini with some gossamer fabric details. He placed a small statuette on the table, her examining it carefully. “This is outside my realm of expertise, I don't know the culture it came from. Based on the chisel marks it is handmade.” 

“That's at least some of what I paid for, any way to date it?” He asked before rubbing his slimy digit along the shock collar’s activation button.

“Not without proper lab equipment and a comparison chart of the expected isotopes levels from different eras from its planet of origin.” He glared but nodded, having the item replaced in its display case. “My expertise is in Mandalorian weapons and armor used in regions of the galaxy that were under Mandalorian rule.” She did know some basics of the other major cultures in the galaxy, but usually people in her field just passed relics to the qualified researchers for that item. 

“And what of Jedi relics?” She could feel the flicker of excitement at his question. Seems that might be his real interest in taking her. 

“If any were left…I could tell you how Mandalorians would have countered them.” She wasn’t lying, she didn’t know much about Jedi items, but what she did know was that the Empire had been very effective in hunting them down. 

“Well, do what you can with the things in this room. But you will change into the uniform first.” She didn’t let her expression change, knowing that he needed her reactions to enjoy himself. All she could do was clench her fist as she itched to fight back but instead did as ordered, all while the electric collar hummed.

* * *

Din rested in the bunk of his ship as the Armorer worked on his equipment, letting his body rest, greatful the kid had calmed down a bit from the event. Kejena was watching the kid for him while he recovered, and Din ran over the events, once more trying to remember what he saw before she was gone. The thugs that dragged her off the Marauder had gotten into a transport ship, and Cara had described seeing a transport ship load onto a larger ship before taking off. Cara was combing through the security footage that hadn’t been fried to help piece together what happened. 

The knot in his stomach tightened again and he couldn’t stop himself from recalling the angry Nikto he had turned down. Surely the crime lord wouldn’t be so offended as to steal her. How would they even know she was with him, he had been sure to keep her away from any of those discussions. 

“Calls have come in from Death Watch on Mandalore.” He could hear the armorer talking to him from the wall of his bunk. “Seems clan Vizsla’s head is trying to get confirmation about today’s events.” 

“Why?” Din's voice was dry and he reached for his water canteen. 

“Officially to order that the Imps need to be brought in for questioning.” There was something else in her tone, but the sound of soldering allowed her time to phrase it carefully. “You’ll take them to Concord Dawn.” 

“I have to go after her.” Din couldn’t stop himself from snapping. 

“Her clan claims it is their responsibility to look for her now. Death Watch’s acting Alor is demanding the Imperials.” 

“You can take them on your ship.” Din wasn’t willing to let her go. The armorer hummed disapprovingly at him. He had promised to get Andora back, for him and Pirpak. “They’ve never commanded us before, why now?” He hated this. His fists clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms till he drew blood. 

“Her mission was to keep the Helm safe from a false Mand’alor. The clan heads will meet on Concord Dawn, listen to what the prisoners have to say, and then...make a war council to select for a new Mand’alor.” Din felt like he had the whole world dropped on him. “If a Mand’alor is selected, succession must take place to mount a full war effort.” He wasn’t ready for this, he hadn’t signed on for this. “If you and her have joined your...causes.” There was a weighted pause in her words, implying she knew the pair had grown romantic. “You have to cast your vote for both of you.” Andora had begged the thugs to leave his helm in place and he couldn’t just turn and leave her out there. “They have transferred the credits needed for you to fuel up. I will have your ship ready to go when you come back with prisoners. Cara and I will go after her.” 

“Why can you not go in my place?” Din hated that he felt like he was arguing with her, but he didn’t want to change his goals. 

“I was not placed in charge of the Helm.” Her tone was firm and final and Din knew that as much as he wanted Andora back, she would agree with the Armorer that picking the right Mand’alor would be more important to her. She had run away trying to buy time but the war was moving forward with or without her. If he was going to uphold her mission, he had to vote for the right leader. If he didn’t help pick someone who would lead the right way then everyone would suffer. 

“Cara and I will leave as soon as you have your targets loaded.” She set down the armor, switching tools and working on the chest plate of the armor. So many burnt out circuits. “Do you trust her abilities?”

“Yes.” Din knew Andora could hold out for rescue, she could survive, but he wanted to be the one to hold her safe again. “She protected me when it was my job to protect her.” 

“Her branch of their clan is known for being aran to their clan’s leaders.” (guards) The armorer offered up, and Din narrowed his eyes as he stared where he believed she was. The words she had said earlier about her clan claiming her now finally processing. “It would explain her recklessness.”

“How do you know so much about her family?” 

“Her brother came in for repairs a few times, and her father came to our tribe seeking help finding her, Paz stayed with us after they rescued her from the camp. He kept contact between Death Watch and us.” 

* * *

“I am sorry little one... I wish she was back here too. But don’t worry, she’ll be okay. She’s strong.” Kejena was trying to soothe the small green child in her arms. Her husband was calling back home, they both wanted to see their kids after the brush with danger. The Warrior had gone with the two women to go do something, and the kid was just not ready to go back out with him. Her husband had made contact with their home and she sighed as she set the child down in his cradle with his toys to go see her own children. He sat there between the two toys, gripping them as he worked on trying to calm down. He was lashing out with his powers trying to follow where she had gone but she was hard to see. His Dad had been hurt and he hadn’t been able to help, and when she had helped Dad she was gone. Pirpak had felt her reach out looking before, but his search was disorganized and didn’t linger long when he found someone. He started with lights he recognized before spreading out, his eyes wide and glazed as he searched for her. 

Other lights seemed to recognize him in some capacity but he just moved on with her not there. He found a few other bright lights but they weren’t her. He wanted her back. He liked her singing, the belly rubs, hugs and stories. He was slipping deeper into the use of his far search, only snapping out of it as his Dad’s light walks into the room and picks him up. Dad is still hurt but Dad won’t let him help with the pain. 

“He must have felt you coming, he stopped crying before you came back.” Dad was holding him close as the woman with white hair talked. He ignored the grown ups as it seemed like some of the lights reached back out to him, trying to understand what he had been looking for. He didn’t know what else to do, he only had a small amount of words to use. He tried to mix the words he had with the images out to the lights, but he had no idea if they could be understood before his body started to feel beyond exhausted from using so much power and the emotional drain. He hiccuped against Dad’s chest plate. 

“I’m sorry Kid.” Dad felt sad and he didn’t understand why. They were leaving the other people as they went back to the ship, four of those people rocks in their home and one man was sitting in Anra’s seat. His hands behind his back. The man had pain in his leg. Pirpak couldn’t fight sleep anymore, Dad closed his crib so he could rest. 

Din had been worried when he saw that Pirpak had a dazed face before those brown eyes focused on him again. Din needed to have faith in those three women. In the Armorer and Cara to find her, and Andora to be okay and safe. He went through the motions of turning on the Crest, inputting the destination and calculating the route. The young man behind him was thankfully silent, Din was not in a mood to put up with much. As the Razor Crest prepared to leave the city he changed one of the jump spots, flying closer to a New Republic lane. Once they were safely out of the planet's orbit he jumped to hyperspace, turning to face his one unfrozen captive. He just started into the younger man’s eyes firmly through his mask. 

“Talk.” Din’s modulated voice dropped lower. 

“.....” The other man didn’t speak at all, just shifting to get more comfortable. 

“Jorhaa'ir.” (Speak.) Din tried again, and the man looked down, then towards the kid which caused Din to whip out his hand and force the man to look at him. “Death Watch will be the least of your worries.”

“Andora was my sister-in-law.” Din squeezed his gloved hand a little tighter. “I tried to warn you guys to leave...but...my brother followed me straight to your ship.” Xig didn’t meet Din’s eyes, looking off as he had to come to terms with the fact his big brother had been the one to shoot his leg out. Braig had never hurt Xig seriously, maybe roughed up during training but...they were brothers. Now Xig was going to possibly lose his leg, if not his life when Death Watch was through with him. 

“What do they want with the kid?” Din growled out angrily. 

“I don’t know. Our division is supposed to focus on recruitment and weapon developments. I don’t know what Gideon wants with the little green ball.” Din squeezed a bit harder, not caring for the way his son was being referred to. 

“What does Gideon want with Andora.” Din had to release his grip to let the young man speak.

“Her family is supposed to have a huge cache of raw Beskar, and Gideon wants it.” Xig’s vocal readings showed he was being at least partially honest. “He needs Beskar to make weapons and battle armor for the new recruits.” 

“And who are the new recruits joining a defeated army.” That statement made Xig look down, his voice shaking. 

“Mhi ganar cuyir chakur adiik.” (We've been stealing kids.) Din couldn’t stop himself from punching the younger man out of rage, hitting him again, and again, a bloody face crying in the chair as Din tried to calm down. 

“Demagolka.” (Monster*) Din snarled as he pulled back, taking Xig down to freeze him, not needing to hear anything else. He’d let the interrogators deal with the whole lot of these bastards. With the young man frozen Din threw him up roughly onto the rack. Din was livid and had nowhere to vent his anger now. He went back up, checking the amount of time before he was at Concord Dawn. He wanted these guys off his ship, go find Andora, and the trio of them go back to looking for the kid’s people. Din striped off the bloody gloves and took off his helmet, putting his face in his hands as he focused on keeping calm. This was beyond just Mandalore. Gideon was taking kids. His stomach lurched as he thought about what that really meant. They were making soldiers out of hostages. 

Din had chosen to become a warrior. If he had said no, his clan would have found him somewhere else to live safely. The Imperials however...those kids would have no choice. Din wished he had tracked down Gideon’s ship and made sure the man was dead. His hand reached out and rested on Pirpak’s cradle, his other hand in his hair as he realized how quickly everything had spiraled out of control. 

* * *

Chapter End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Demagolka: The basic translation of this word is monster, it actually has context in the Mandolorian lore. On a Mando'a translation sight it means "someone who commits atrocities, a real-life monster, a war criminal - from the notorious Mandalorian scientist of the Old Republic, Demagol, known for his experiments on children, and a figure of hate and dread in the Mando psyche"


	17. Best Laid Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review Response: 
> 
> Anne: sorry the prior chapter took so long to update, hopefully this helped make it up to you and all the readers.

Grakkus was watching as she was studying the relics in his collection, providing her with gloves and a proper face cover for her work while she sat in the slave outfit, wearing an overcoat since the cold of space had made her shiver and nearly drop a delicate funerary jar. The men had been a bit disturbed by the angry puckered skin of the scar that filled the whole of her left thigh. The skin was discolored shades of red, white, and some black that seemed to hint at dead flesh under the skin layers. Grakkus was a bit annoyed by her demure attitude, wanting to give her a shock to try and entertain himself but the jar in her hands was supposed to be 10,000 years old so as fun as it would be, that piece was literally worth more than some planets. His servant took her clothes away as a way of trying to show his control of her, but she had done very little in response. 

His ship was moving through hyperspace towards his home base on Nar Shaddaa. He had sent orders ahead of him to have his collection room set up to have her go through and start authenticating his Mandalorian pieces. He was hoping his centerpiece was worth the loss of the bounty hunter who had been wearing it, and the animals that had been killed in his fighting arena. It was decades old, but prior to now he had not had anyone who could authenticate the piece. What little the Empire had not destroyed of his original Jedi collection seemed to compliment the growing Mandalorian selection. Her being a descendant of the Mandalorian Jedi would make her a delightfully amusing bridge piece once she had outlived her usefulness. He would have to have his taxidermist do something about making the scar a bit more...appealing to look at. On the other hand he could put her in an outfit that would cover it...or just pose her in a way to keep it out of view. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully Grakkus contemplated his options for his newest acquisition. 

She placed the jar back in it’s case, writing something as she filled in the form, her penmanship a bit silted and scratchy, maybe her wrist had been injured during the capture process. He was speaking to his servant about some other business that he had in progress with the shipment of Death Sticks for his night clubs. He spoke in Huttese with his Nikto servant, smirking as he looked over some blackmail images he had of some of senators' party focused children in a few sectors that were a bit bothersome to his shipments. Ordering the blackmails sent out he ordered the men in the room to watch her as he wanted to go and take a bath with some of his favored slaves while this one worked. He expressly told them to not touch her while the artifacts were in range, their entertainment was secondary to his artifacts. 

Andora smirked when the Hutt turned his back, working slower now that the men had orders to not bother her. He didn’t need to know she could speak Huttese. She was using her right hand to sign off on the documents, so if these fake certificates went around they wouldn’t match her normal writing. Being left handed had its benefits. She was reaching out with her senses to see what the men in the room were feeling, most of them bored at being stuck watching her stare at old things. It was hours of her slowly moving through the artifacts, taking long amounts of time even for items that were obvious fakes or that she had no clue about. 

Eventually the Nikto comes and orders her taken back to her cell. The men move to grab her and she doesn’t put up a fight as the controller to her collar was handed over to them. She was really cold as she walked barefoot on the metallic ship, the man to her left ripping her blanket away, them saying crude things in a variety of languages but she was trying to keep her temper down. They reached her cell, it more of a small closet with a thin padded mat that wasn’t enough for her to stretch out on. One of the men put himself in the room with her, his comrades chiding him for going after the girl with the ugly scars. The controller was on the other side of the door, but since they couldn’t see inside the room Andora focused all her energy into what she did next. The man tried to scare her by slamming her into the metal wall, and while she grunted at the pain of the contact, she didn’t look at him. He was saying the typical lines, trying the standard ways men like him tried to frighten and scare their victims. A vicious smirk widened on her lips. She put her hands around his wrists, him looking a bit off put by her boldness and lack of fear. Andora started to use her powers, delighted as she watched him start to groan in exhaustion as she drained his life force from him. The man slumped against her as his legs lost the strength to hold him, his arms held up by her own. 

Andora was feeling the most glorious rush of malevolent pleasure as she kept taking from him, wanting to punish him for his dark actions against others who had been truly helpless. He had enjoyed causing pain, misery, and suffering. Andora channeled that desire to inflict pain back to him, letting him loose more and more of himself into her as he was starting to shake as if he was having a seizure. He was close to death now, just a bit more and she would have his life as her own. Like a black hole his life force was swirling into her, it draining faster and faster, his flesh starting to look gaunt as his eyes rolled back. ‘YES! KILL HIM! DO IT!’

‘Do this, you must not.’ A sudden light blinded her and she let him go as she raised her hands to her eyes, trying to block out the light that was not a physical vision but through the very force itself. By the time she was able to open her eyes there was a heavy wheezing sound as the man was gasping desperately for air as his body looked aged by decades. Her powers felt almost like a sheen of light had wrapped itself between her and the man, keeping her power structured and firm, feeding off the light instead of the man. The voice had been the same one to push her back into her body when she had pushed herself. It had been warm, soft, familiar almost, as much as a light could be. ‘Example set you must. Learn from you, he does.’ Andora slumped against the wall, her own heart pounding with the over flow of energy and adrenaline. Her flesh felt so warm, fighting off the chill of the space cooled ship. 

The man deserved to die, why did it matter how she did it. She thought towards the light in her mind. 

‘A Vizsla are you not?’ The light seemed to be humoring her good naturedly. ‘Use power to protect you should. But give into darkness a Mandalorian must not. For then no more than a Sith you be.’ It almost felt like someone was with her, but she had no idea who this was. 

“I am a Mandalorian. Not a Jedi, not a Sith.” She huffed as the man stopped shaking, his breathings starting to even out, but he was not looking any better. 

‘Exactly.’ There was almost a good natured laugh she could hear in her ears. ‘Called what are your people, beyond Mandos.’ Andora was a bit confused, the speech pattern a bit hard for her to understand exactly what they meant. There was a hum as the light tried to think of how to reframe their intended meaning. 

‘Dha Werda Verda. Know this you should, yes?’ The light sounded all too delighted with itself. The man was breathing, looking slightly less corpsey, but obviously not well.

“Of course I do.” Andora had memorized it before she had ever started school. Her grandfather had made sure she and her brother had memorized the old classics before sending them to the pacifist schools that seemed eager to deny it’s value. She remembered how embarrassed she had been when she had sung the poem in school and her teachers scolded her and called her dad to pick her up. 

‘Meditate on it. Poetry it is, it rhymes and repeats. But history it is too, and knowing it makes new rhymes yes?’ The light faded away, Andora trying to understand the voice before it filtered out of her senses. The light faded from her completely, and it seemed it had been long enough she wasn’t going to drain this man of his life anymore. She huffed in annoyance, pushing the near corpse off her bed and onto his side, yanking his jacket off and trying to retain heat as she lay on the pathetic padding. The door opened, someone wanting to check on their coworker. They couldn’t see his face, assuming he was sleeping and shrugging as they pulled him from the room since it was against rules to stay with the girls overnight since they had to lock the door. The Gamorian who pulled the human out was curious at how light the man was, locking the door and leaving the man slumped in a heap on the floor.

* * *

Din was feeling an overwhelming sense of anxiety as he walked through the village. It was not the village he had grown up in, but the simple buildings, the people dressed in the maroon robes, and the mix of basic conversations intermixed with affectionate calls to loved ones in Mando’a dredging up memories of his childhood. It was a calm day, the warm sun and breeze felt so peaceful, just like before the droids marched into his home. Din shook himself, breathing deeply to focus on his task at hand, namely marching till he met the contact who would claim his prisoners. 

“Pas verd!” (Hey soldier!) Din turns, seeing another person in armor, the style so similar but he recognized it as a much older set of armor, it had the scars of centuries of battles. Paint flexed off in some places, some dents, and what looked like re-wielded points. The Mando waves him over. Din marched, the cradle floating behind him, the child bundled in his blankets and toys, seeming to still be unwilling to be active. Behind that was a stack of carbonite frozen men floating along. It was worrying Din but he had to go through with his mission for now. Andora would have been so excited to see the New Crusader armor in active use. She had been teaching Pirpak their history even though the little guy probably wouldn’t remember much of it. The soldier turned and walked off, the villagers paying them no mind, children looking on and waving before going about their important business of playing. Eventually they reached the central building in the village, it was a community hall, the largest building by far, and there were armored soldiers wearing a variety of armors, clan insignia painted and welded on armors, some wearing helmets and others having the helmets off and in their laps. It was mostly older soldiers from what he could tell, some younger ones around the room sitting under different banners. There were empty drinks and plates, young teens coming to collect the mess before being told to stay out. Everyone was heavily armed, and some groups seemed more tense than others. The younger soldiers seemed to be a more diverse mix of species which was good for their longevity. 

The soldier that led him in brought him over to join the table he sat at, the clan insignia above it was Clan Vizsla’s three claw marks, and across the way was another clan with a tree branch and flowers, more sitting under it. The man and Din the only ones left under the old war banner. The child was silent as they entered the room. Eyes and visors turning to watch as a man brought his child to a war council along with the five prisoners still frozen in carbonite. The man who had led him here took his helmet off once the door was locked, armed guards posted outside. Din went stiff as the man’s face was revealed to him. The man raised an eyebrow at the way Din was staring at him through his visor. 

“Problem hunter?” His voice was deep and raspy from age. Deep wrinkles and faded scars crossing a face Din had seen in the pictures over and over again. 

“Catul?” Din whispered in confusion. The features looked so similar but the man before him was far too old. The veteran soldier blinked a bit, a sad smile on his face. He shook his head. 

“Kaysh cuyir ner ad.” (He is my son.) The man said in a hushed admission. “I am Vim Vizsla. Andora didn’t mention me, I imagine.” He sighed sadly. “Don’t spare my feelings.” 

“No. She only mentioned her brother and father.” Din replied honestly. Vim sighed, it clear his armor was not the heaviest thing he bore the weight of. 

“Andora hasn’t forgiven me then.” He looked so tired in that moment, the armored shoulders sagging in defeat. “I guess it was foolish to imagine she would now that it’s just us left. I had hoped she had when I learned what she did but...at least she’s doing what’s right for our people.” The child cooed softly as he meekly peeked his head up behind his stuffed dolls. Vim looked at the cradle, his eyes crinkling in a squint as he looked at two large brown eyes between two large green ears. “You got a set of scanners on ya don’t ya little one.” 

“Anra?” The kid gurgled up, hopeful at hearing grown ups talk about her. The older man’s smile widened with some affection as he reached out a gloved hand for the child, three small green fingers barely wrapped around the thick gloved finger. 

“She called him Pirpak till I can pick something.” Din offered to the elder man. Vim laughed loudly, the others looked at him but none said a word as they were busy waiting for the carbonite to thaw and begin the interrogations. 

“Soups were her favorite as a kid, my riduur Ree would make them for her all the time before she marched.” (partner) The elder man took off his gloves, letting the toddler touch his calloused but aged hands. “She must believe in you if she gave up her freedom for your honor.” 

“I asked her to stay with me.” Vim looked surprised at that statement, humming thoughtfully as he picked up the child and brought him closer to his face, the baby giggling and Din became aware of the dirty looks everyone was giving his son. 

“Tkiriyr gar acar.” (Mind your business.) That was all Vim had to say for the others to turn their attention away from the three of them. “I may look weak now but I used to be a powerful fighter.” The man let the baby run his claws curiously over his face, the baby seeming to smile for the first time since Andora was taken. “Did she say yes?”   
  
“She said she wanted to but...we didn’t have time to finish our discussion before the ambush.” Din clenched his fists again, wondering if it would be rude to just leave at this point. He didn’t know any of these people, how could he make a choice for one of them as leader. 

“So why are you here and not out there looking for my bu’ad?” (grandchild) The elder man let the child sit on broad metallic shoulders, looking out over the sea of armor, the child clinging to Vim’s white hair. 

“Death Watch wanted the prisoners and Clan Vizsla claimed rescue rights.” Din clenched his fists because this man surely already knew this. 

“Do you think she’s in danger?” Vim seemed unbothered as Pirpak’s claws left little scratches that welled up with blood from how aged his skin was. He simply moved Pirpak to his lap, bouncing the child in the way Din had watched Andora do. 

“Whether she’s in danger or not doesn’t matter, I promised to protect her.” Din huffed, the prisoners free of their carbonite and being wrangled by the guards with shackles into kneeling positions in the center of the room. 

“Who will you cast your vote for? Most of the votes are already accounted for, the clans vote for themselves and we end up in a deadlock.” Din looked around the room, not recognizing any of them. He shakes his head. “Who do you think Andora would vote for?” Vim handed Pirpak back as he cleaned up his scratches and put back on his helmet, the others in the room covering their faces as the blindness would start fading for some of their prisoners. 

“Pirpak.” Din answered without a thought, thinking about how she would do something like that to make sure he would not give him back to his own kind. Vim boomed in laughter again, the modulator of his helmet making it sound a bit more sinister than humorous. 

“He’s a bit young. But I will keep it in mind.” Vim stood to his full height and seemed to roll his shoulders back as he moved towards the center of the room, and Din realized now why no one spoke against the elder man as he was introduced. Vim Vizsla, acting Alor of the Mandalore Resistance, formerly known as Death Watch. Din put Pirpak back in the cradle and closed it as Vim took to the interrogations with a vicious enthusiasm. 

* * *

“Greef what do you got for me?” Cara and the Armorer were finally back at the ship all the way in the desert. Both women covered in sand, dirt, and blood from helping Din take the prisoners aboard his ship. 

“Grakkus runs his businesses out of his palace on Nar Shaddaa. He’s on a few persona non grata lists for different bounty guilds because of breach of contract. He tends to kidnap hunters he likes and they die in his arenas.” Greef had been looking into their target when Cara found out who the transport ship that had run off belonged to. “Best be careful, he’s known for dealing in all sorts of dirty business. Smuggling, illegal animal trade, drugs, grand theft, murder, slavery. The full sabacc of charges.” 

“Killed worse.” Cara tossed back casually as she looked over some of the heavier artillery her new Mandalorian acquaintance had and would share for this mission.

“Nar Shaddaa is his turf, the Empire struggled to arrest him the first time. The Emperor sent in his controller to handle him personally last time.” Greef’s voice sounded a bit distant. The ship ramp closed and the engine hummed, lifting them up into the atmosphere. 

“To handle a Hutt?” She had heard rumors about the man clad in all black who could wipe out an entire squadron, but had never run across him herself. 

“He got himself a fancy set of cybernetics. He’s been seen ripping people in half. Don’t do something reckless Cara, I need my enforcer back.” His tone was trying to play it off but she understood his worry as a friend. 

“It’s me and a Mandalorian, we can handle one overgrown slug.” Cara ended the transmission as the ship was already in orbit, just needing a few more moments to calculate the hyperspace jump to Nar Shaddaa. Cara strapped in as the ship reoriented itself, and the star streaks were now filling the viewport. It was a few moments before the gravity switched back on and Cara and the Armorer could unstrap from the seats. Cara readjusting her armor as the other woman went into the back portion of the ship, the lock of the door telling Cara that she was taking some time without her helm on. There were pieces of armor cast in a variety of metals adorning the walls of her ship, and a range of weapons that any serious collector would be drooling over. Cara found herself enamored with the heavy weapons, some pieces definitely not legal, and could blow out a shoulder or too. The rocket launcher was really calling her name. 

“I have the harness if you want to wield it.” The Armorer came back, her furs removed and being cleaned, Cara seeing the woman’s strong frame and corded muscles from hours at her work. Turning away with a small blush Cara refocused her attention on the weapon. 

“If it looks like we need it. It might be better to try and sneak in and rescue her without too much attention. Maybe as a parting shot though, a nice kriff you.” 

“Let me take a look at your armor, I can’t do much with the time we have, but it’s not worth me taking you into the line of fire without something a bit more secure. Don’t need two rescues.” The golden visor looked at Cara, motioning expectantly for the materials. Cara Looked away as she took off her chest guard and the pauldrons. The woman took her armor and started to examine it. 

Cara busied herself with washing the grime from her face in the fresher, huffing a sigh as she watched the layer of sand wash away from her skin. Din and that kid of his were counting on her to get back this woman, she needed to focus and get this done. She was going for an infiltration of a dangerous gang operation, and her associate would literally stick out like a sore thumb in that glimmering armor. They would need to do some reconnaissance, find her, and make it as surgical a strike as possible. It would be nice if they had some help but she didn’t think she could reach out to any of her former rebel pals for help. Clan Vizsla was helping them with a line of credits, but she hadn’t actually heard of any more Mando’s meeting up with them. Drying her face Cara left the fresher and looked towards where the Armorer was working her craft skillfully. 

“I thought Clan Vizsla was supposed to be leading this rescue effort, are they meeting us planet side?” Cara opened a pack of provisions, keeping her mouth occupied to help hide any blushing. 

“Andora Vizsla is no doubt working on her own escape. We are coming to provide her support. It will be just us, her family doesn’t have many soldiers left to spare. Clan Vizsla took heavy losses during the Purge, they refused to retreat till they couldn’t hold the line. They didn’t want to leave Mand’alor Kryze’s body for the Empire, or at least that’s what they said. I think they wanted to die in battle. Wanted to make amends for everything they had done, paying their debt the only way they know how.” There was a heavy sigh that seemed to be drenched in sadness. “With blood.” 

“Why tell an outsider all of this?’ Cara roughly swallowed her food. 

“So you understand. This is the way of our soldiers to do, or die trying. You have no such obligation if this fails, nor to continue this if we succeed. She and I will be joining the others for battle.” She turned back with the armor, laying it before Cara. “I will not ask you to fight our war.” 

* * *

“What do you mean they are gone?” Gideon was clenching his fists as his communications officer informed him that his Death Troopers had all been arrested. Then kidnapped from prison. All this before his other soldiers could fly out and silence them. The blaster shot hit the officer in the chest, the armor the only reason the man was grunting in pain and not dead. 

“How many troopers do we have to get this job done?” He turned on the bridge to face the other side of the pit, the troopers there snapped to attention as the other man was taken away to the med bay. Gideon pursed his lips as he awaited an answer. 

“We have 9,700 troopers in the garrison Sir.” 

“How many on the entire ship?” Gideon hissed. His temper was already on edge. 

“46,785 Sir. But we need a bare minimum crew of 5,000 to maintain systems on the ship.” 

“So I have an army of 41,785 troops.” Gideon said, a chill running over the crew. 

“We will be taking the children as soon as the Duchess is ready. Is that clear?” Gideon tightened his grasp on his blaster. “When is the Duchess going to be done?” 

“It will be done at the end of the week Sir.” The same officer responded.

“What about the Beskar Sir?” Another officer asked, blueprints for the armors up on his console. 

“We can scavenge it once we wipe out the cities. With the transmission blockade no one will know what has happened for at least a week. The main priority at this point is sending recruits to the training facilities. Understood?” A chorus of yes sir filled the bridge before Gideon walked towards his quarters. Once in his office he pulled up his private communication line, waiting for Ordot to answer. 

“Moff Gideon, we have opened up several new Beskar mining sites an-” 

“I know. My reports have already told me. I’m pleased with the work you have been doing. I’m sure you’ll meet our quotas. I’m so pleased in fact that I want you to make a public announcement in the near future so you can take the title Mand’alor. I want it broadcast to the entire system, and let's make it a real public relations event. Have as many school aged children there as possible, it always looks nice for the cameras.” Gideon smirked, seeing Ordot take the bait without a second thought. The man agreed and Gideon hung up, letting the old fool think himself ahead of the game. After the announcement went public, They would cut transmission to run pregenerated propaganda from the ship. Once the Duchess was used against the city's life support systems they would have two hours to take as many children as possible before air ran out. The overwhelming numbers he had would easily crush the meager security the city had of 8,000 protectors, and no doubt the announcement would draw out Death Watch. Their numbers would easily be wiped out by the Duchess. Gideon was determined this time to finish the purge he had started. There would be no Mandalorians to threaten the Empire ever again. Only troopers to serve them in crushing the Republic. 

* * *

Xig had freely told Vim everything, his brother's threats doing nothing to silence the younger man from laying bare his soul. Vim had still taken his time pulling out similar confessions from the others. The only man refusing to answer any direct questions was Braig. 

“Bu'cala bal ibic kyr.” (Confess and this ends.) Vim said, his armor having multiple mists of blood spray decorating the old armor. Braig glared up into the visor before him, spitting out blood as he looked up at the man with a self righteous smirk. 

“Gar rudara sooran ner buhr.” (Your granddaughter sucked my cock.) There was a hushed silence in the room as they expected the veteran to kill the prisoner for saying that. Vim simply pointed towards Din. 

“Bal la copaanir kaysh a'lyayao.” (And she wants his instead.) Din was thankful his face was hidden at the very unexpected statement. Braig looked bewildered at the retort, not sure how to proceed if that didn’t provoke the old man to violence. “She divorced you for failure as a husband to perform. Since I have no great grandchildren it's not hard to guess where you are lacking.” There were snickers in the room, Braig’s face twisting in shame, puffing out his chest to try and recover his pride. “Now confess your crimes.” Braig didn’t speak, shamed into silence, not that his confession was needed, just wanted. With a sigh Vim made to turn and leave before delivering a heavy punch to Braig’s stomach, his full body weight and momentum in that blow. The man coughed up more blood, vomiting on himself, and slumping into his chains as he groaned in pain. Vim kneeled down, yanking Braig’s hair, pulling his bloodied and bruised face to his visor. Vim squeezed Braig’s throat as he leaned in to whisper menacingly in his face. “ Projor ca'nara gar jorhaa'ir yirhaou kaysh emuurir ibac. Ni malyasa'yr sarlu'e bas neral gar gar srukre epan b'amr.” (Next time you talk about her like that. I will personally feed you your own guts boy.) 

Vim turned, grabbing a rag to begin cleaning his armor, having Xig taken separately from the others. Once the room was cleaned Vim removed his helmet, ordering a helmet of tihaar. It seemed everyone else took this as their cue to order more food and drink, it had been hours since this started, others taking this as a chance to stretch or move and discuss the troubling news about what Gideon was planning. 

“What do you think?” Vim asked Din as he also reached in to pick up the awake Pirpak. 

“Kai’tome.” Pirpak squeaks out, Vim ordering over food for the little one. 

“If that weapon can wipe us out in our armor...our only chance is to stop it from the air. Evacuations won’t be possible. It’ll trigger hysteria and Gideon would gladly shoot down civilians trying to escape.” Din rolled his shoulders back as he thought through the information he had. “How many do we have to fight?” 

“Considering how they feel towards the Pacifists...I’d be lucky to get 400.” Vim looked around the room, nodding to the clans he knew he could count on. 

“Even if it's to stop Gideon and save children?” Din helped Pirpak by cutting slices of fruit and cheeses.

“Many of them see those children as Dar’manda, and others are still scared from the Purge. Not many will risk this.” Vim took a large drink from his liquor, its sweet scent drawing Pirpak’s attention but Vim easily held it out of the small child’s reach. “Yer not old enough.” He lightly scolded the kid, who tried to cry only to be shocked into silence when his nose got booped, sitting down and rubbing his nose to fix the odd feeling. “Each clan gets one vote, it helps keep smaller clans from being ignored.” Vim said helpfully to Din. 

“How do we know who we are voting for?” Din still didn’t know any of these people. 

“That’s the part that comes next. Best head to the refresher, some of these fools like to talk for ages.” Vim chuckled, raising his glass and draining it.

* * *

“Saba, what has your mind so troubled?” The man asked the Barabel beside him. “I can feel your distress from here.” The two were meditating in a private section of the cave. His x-wing parked to protect it from the elements of Barab 1. 

“The little light from yesterday...it felt so sad.” Saba was a sub-adult Barabel at 14, her clan so proud of her, being the first Barabel in recorded history to ever be gifted with the Force. Saba’s clawed fingers came up to grip the little metal token around her neck. The skull was of a creature she had never seen, but her parents told her it was a gift from her fifth parent who had been taken off world. This other parent had been gifted with the force, and her mother Zalle was convinced it was this war sister that had blessed Saba with Jedi magic. “It felt like...like this one should help it, like it is part of Saba’s nest.” 

“You’re not close to being done with your training Saba.” He chuckled, the irony not eluding him. “What will you do?” 

“This one does not know. This one wants to help, but not sure if she can do it alone.” The man thought of his pupil’s words, thinking back on what he had been hearing through the Force and the cry for help yesterday. He had managed to get a message from his sister about the rescue mission she had done for a group of researchers, and it seemed that the force was moving pieces into place for something. It wasn’t calling to him, but he couldn’t send his pupil on her own. 

“What do Barabel’s do when the nest is in trouble?” The man ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, thinking he may need to cut it soon. 

“The Clan goes to fight and protect the nest.” Her red eyes looked to her teacher, hoping that was the correct answer to his question. Her brownish red scales are a stark contrast to the beige robes she wore. 

“Well...what will you do?” He smiled reassuringly at her, knowing that it was the Force moving her, and he had to let her go and learn what it was going to show her. 

“Ask the clan to go protect the little light.” Her eyes were bright with delight at her teacher’s blessing, bowing respectfully to him as she stood. “Will Saba be allowed to learn when she comes back?” He seemed to be thinking about something, calling over his droid and giving her a small data card. 

“When you are done, come find me to finish your training.” She nodded, storing it into her pouch as she easily scaled the rocky terrain and rushed to her clan to inform them of what she needed. “May the Force be with you Saba.”


	18. Grahala Ceratir

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grahala Ceratir= Shatter Points
> 
> Manda has a lot of meanings in Mando'a based on context, Manda* is for their version of heaven.
> 
> There has been some reinterpretation of legends and canon lore throughout the story, but the core concepts of the lore stays the same, so yes I changed some things, but its all to make it work. 
> 
> Reviewer responses in endnotes since they were long this time. lol

The shipping freighter was being loaded by the Barabels, the guard who was stationed at the spaceport didn’t bother stopping them from taking control of the ships. He didn’t get paid enough to stop them. The company of fruit merchants who were being taken captive trembled as the Clan of warriors imposed orders on them. Barabel’s ranging in heights from six to seven feet, all adults armed with a variety of weapons from primitive spears to the blasters they won from their defeat of the Imperial regiments sent to overthrow them. The fruit was unloaded and instead massive amounts of meat replaced the shipment, other Barabels from neighboring clans excited by the commotion and coming to investigate. 

“Where Clan Reka going, is the whole clan going offworld?” A yellowish brown male Barabel asked casually as a greenish red Barabel male walked past in armor through the port. It was rare for even a couple barabels to leave the planet. For a whole clan to leave was unthinkable. 

“We go to war.” Tokor replied easily to the other male, his nestmate Zalle helping direct the clan to load food and weapons. Zalle’s daughter Saba had told them of her vision of the woman with armor, Zalle recognizing it as War Sister Andora. Only a few members were being left behind to guard the clan’s nest, but the clan was eager to follow the request of their future jedi. 

“Why go to war offworld?” The yellowish brown male asked, watching as the humans around the port nervously flinched when the Barabels passed. The last time this many Barabels had been in the city they had forced the Imperial officer in charge to sign a peace treaty. 

“Jedi said we should go.” Tokor said, shifting the weight to his other arm since he had stopped to talk. “We leave when our future Jedi comes back with something for us to take.” 

“If Jedi is asking, Clan Surax will not be left out of getting Prestige. And Clan Relhig needs to know to remember this.” The male puffed out his chest. Tokor scratched his claws against his chin, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Must ask the Longfang*, we only just decided today to go to war.” (Leader) He resumed walking towards the ship, the other rushing off to inform his clan’s Longfang. Clan Reka already had enough prestige for having a Jedi come to stay with them to train a nestling. No way would he let his clan miss out on something they could control. Barabels from the other clans in the only port city on the planet also quickly learned of Clan Reka’s mission to leave, their clans quickly dispatching groups of their own warriors to not allow Clan Reka all the war glory. It was mere hours before the port was overrun by warrior Barabels commendering any ship in the port that could fly through hyperspace. On even the busiest day the port was one Barabel for every 20 off worlders, and maybe only a few hundred off worlders there for business. Today there were easily 3,000 Barabel warriors milling about the port. 

The creatures in the cages were snarling and hissing, but the solid sides kept the slamming tentacles from harming anyone. It had been dangerous to trap the vicious monsters but Saba felt that they would be an extra edge for the slightly primitive society when heading off to war against the more advanced world’s armies. When Saba and her hunting party returned to the port with the cages she felt a bit intimidated by the pressure resting on her shoulders as she looked over the sea of warriors coming with her to a fight she only had a vague idea about. The only human that seemed at ease among the Barabels waved her over, his x-wing the only ship being left alone. Her clan members nodded her along to see what he had to say, Saba rushing over to his ship and bowing respectfully to him. 

“Do you feel ready for this?” He placed his hand on her shoulders and did his best to help her feel calm. Saba nodded, her tail twitching nervously behind her. “It’s okay to be scared. Trust in the Force and in your training. My sister confirmed some details for us, you will just have to find them once you get there. The destination coordinates for your ships are already programmed in.” 

“Not mad we are taking the ships?” He was running his hand through his hair as he looked towards the ship crews glaring at him for not standing up for their business interests from behind the safety of the main viewing port. 

“Just try and not get them blown up okay. I already reached out to my brother-in-law to come help them get some of their shipping done. I’ll stay to help keep this from being an issue till he can come handle it. Just be careful Saba. Being able to use the Force doesn’t make you invincible.” He patted her shoulders and she looked at his artificial left hand, a good reminder of that lesson. 

“Is this one ready for a jedi weapon?” She said hopefully, looking at the lightsaber on his belt. Her teacher laughed and unhooked his weapon, holding it in his hand between them as she reached out timidly. 

“Pull it from me.” He said softly. Saba focuses her attention on the weapon and tries to will it into her hand. She could feel him resisting, it did not even shift in his open palm. She sighed in defeat as the weapon did not come to her. “Not yet Saba, but next time we meet, I think you will be ready.” He returned it to his belt, and it seemed that the ships were waiting on her now. Saba steeled herself and put back on her smile, eager for her first trip off planet, and the chance to put herself to the test. 

“This one will make the Jedi and Clan Reka proud.” With that she turned and made a sprint to the open loading ramp of the ship her clan was waiting in. The boom of thunder from the approaching monsoon cresting over the horizon was like the starting shot as the ships rose into the atmosphere and made their jump to hyperspace. He joined the crews in the shelter, not wanting to be washed away by the torrential rains. 

* * *

Din struggled to keep his eyes open during the fifth long winded speech from the other clans. His helmet would sway and dip before he jerked back awake, looking at his display to see this was hour six of the voting, and so far none of these clans had offered up any plans, just leaders. Vim had taken Pirpak outside when the kid had gotten fussy, saying he had already made up his mind so he did not need to listen to the speeches. Din had tried to protest but he trusted the kid’s judgement, if the little guy was happy going off with Vim, Din would let him socialize a bit. His stomach was gurgling angrily as he had not eaten for a day and a half now. Worse than his stomach was the cracks in his lips and the taught feel of the skin on the roof of his mouth from dehydration. 

The room seemed restless and there were other people less gracefully asleep at their spots. Their snores running through their voice coders coming out stilted and staticy. Thankfully when this speech ended a break was called for. Din rose quickly, determined to get back to the kid, get some water and a ration pack. Vim was sitting outside on a nearby bench, pointing up at the stars as the child babbled into his ear. Seeing Din approach he rose to his feet, chuckling as the little green ball launched himself in a jump towards him. Din reached out in a panic to catch the kid who only giggled as Din caught him. 

“Come, you can rest up with me. They won’t start up again for a few hours.” Vim said walking away as he expected them to take his invitation. Din was desperate for rest on his own ship but knew it would be wiser to take Vim up on his offer. The temptation to leave after Andora was strong, and being on his ship would make it worse. The walk was short, Vim’s home a simple building between the village and the guard gate, a well worn dirt path splitting the soft grasses between the porch and the tiny guard gate spoke of routine. Opening the door Din and Pirpak were greeted to a modest interior walking down the stone steps. Turning on the light Din saw the interior space below the surface was dug in deep, a larger space capable of housing a sizable family. A small convert, tunnels leading off the main room towards what Din assumed were the rest of the home. In the room’s center was a cooking hearth, and along the walls seemed to be filled with the images of other people, Din recognizing Andora’s family as some of the faces. Vim stripped off his armor with a hefty sign, his eyes focused as he started up the fire and pulled out some food. He pointed towards the nearest tunnel. 

“Fresher is down that way.” Din nodded, Pirpak eagerly walking around the new space. Taking care of his needs Din took a long look at himself in the mirror, not understanding what the point was of him being here. The clan heads weren’t offering any plans, they were willing to just leave the planet to be enslaved because they weren’t true Mandalorians. What did that matter? Would they really stand by and allow the Empire to kidnap an entire planet’s children? His thoughts clouding over as his hunger, thirst, and the physical pain returned in full, the painkillers wearing off, and his body demanding care and rest. In the central room the sizzle of meat on the skillet was the most wonderful sound, the spicy sweet scent of the marinade filtering up into his helmet, his mouth watering. Pirpak was trying to get closer to the stove top, Vim easily putting the kid back every time he started to crawl on top. 

“Come on kid, you’ve seen fires before.” Din said, moving to pick the little green ball up. 

“It’s fine, I had seven sons, all pretty clustered together in age, all of them arguing over who would get the best piece first, trying to nab it from the pan. Saved plenty of fingers by eating it myself. Teach ‘em who's the boss.” Vim chuckled as he stared towards the wall of pictures. 

“Where are they?” Din asked, seeing the tantalizing glass of water in front of him. Vim looked back down at the meat in the pan, turning it over to crisp both sides. 

“Manda*, with my sweet Ree.” Din looked at the large home now, its emptiness far more haunting. “It’s just me and Andora left.” 

“What happened?” Din pulled Pirpak close, giving the little squirmer water first.

“We raised soldiers...they were brave boys. Every one of them.” Vim’s face faltered from warm to a hard hatred. “Shit leaders are what happened to them.” The meat was pulled off, some eggs cracked to cook in the fat left behind as the meat rested. “What happened to all of us.” The shells were tossed in the fire, cracking as they burst from the heat. “We put our lives and honor on the line, and leaders toss us into the tides of war without a care. We fought and died for other peoples homes, and look at what's left. Full pockets and empty beds.” 

“You sound like Andora.” Din said softly, the kid fussing with the water and trying to crawl away to explore the house more. 

“Nah, if I did I would be praising Mereel.” Vim’s smile was sad when it came back. “Didn’t like him then, still don’t like him now. I mean, not proud about how we did him in, was a shame. But we won, then his men passed the title to his pick instead of the strongest warrior.” Din suddenly felt a bit on edge as Vim plated the food, the egg yolk still jiggling and gooey as it rested on the meat. Vim filled his own water and took a long drink, passing a knife and fork as he cut the egg and let it drip over the steak as Vim cut it into small bites as Pirpak moved over, eagerly opening his mouth and swallowing down the bits being held out to him. “You can take it in a room, eat, drink, rest, little bottomless pit here and I will keep each other company.” Din wanted to argue, to push himself, but he couldn’t, his stomach rumbled loud enough it seemed to echo. Walking down into the hallway Din closed the door to a room, ripping his helmet off and drinking down a hearty chug of water, relishing it rushing down his throat before stabbing the egg to let its yolk run and coat his steak, helping to cut the heat of the spices used to cook the meat, leaving flavor and only slight burn. Din barely registers this as he scarfs it down, the weight of the meat easing his stomach. Din wants to get back out to Pirpak but his body refused, the pain from injuries treated with the bare minimum effort was catching up, the exhaustion robbing his muscles of their strength, and he felt himself fall back to rest on the bed below him. 

* * *

Andora was leveling her best glare as the door to her cell was opened, rising up to her feet and following them under threat of force. The jacket ripped from her shoulders and left her once more shivering from cold. The glorified bathing suit offered her nothing in terms of protection, feeling a painful pinch to her rump and doing her best to swallow down her reaction. She had more than enough energy to heal it, so why waste time fighting him. A blaster bolt to the back of his head could come after her escape. As she reentered the office she could see the viewing port was open, the stripes in hyperspace starting to shorten as the ship slowed down, a planet coming into view. Nar Shada, the city's glimmering lights would have been exciting if this place was not the literal lawless wreck of multiple crime syndicates trying to wrestle control from each other. The ship was moving towards a part of the city that seemed a bit more upscaled and established, meaning the richest of the worst lived here. The massive transport ship was hovering over the palace below, the ships heavy artillery aimed below to strongly discourage anyone trying to acquire things from Grakkus without paying. 

“I do hope you like it, you’ll be staying here from now on.” Grakkus chuckled, having sent for his taxidermist once they dropped out of hyperspace, wanting to see if anything could be done about the scars and to plan her display case. Andora dug her nails into her palms so hard she could feel where she broke the skin, the pain a welcome relief since she was unable to act right now. “I want her brought down with the relics, she’s going to be busy.” She was led to the storage crate that was nearly full, the men shoving her in before closing the hatch behind her, leaving her inside as the crate was loaded up. She was fuming but she wasn’t able to do anything more than pout and angrily slap and kick the frigid metal walls. It was hard to tell how long she was inside the container, the trip down to the planet’s surface a short trip but she was not ‘unloaded’ for a while. At least it was not freezing cold anymore, but the amount of air was limited and she was starting to panic a bit. Finally she could hear the latch locking mechanism come undone and the bright light outside was blinding compared the darkness inside the box. She was tugged out of the container as the workers began to unload the relics, her eyes adjusting to show her a massive display room filled with impressive pieces of art from a variety of cultures. This was awful, terrible, soul crushing. These pieces of history were stolen to be locked away from the cultures they belonged to, not even in places of study where they could be learned from, but just here for someone to privately gawk at. These weren’t just generic pieces that someone could own, these looked like pieces ripped right from temple walls based on the cut marks. The damage done to the places these belonged just for this crime lord to own them made her despondent. 

“You like it yes? It’s impressive, only the Emperor had a nicer collection. He even stole from my old one.” Grakkus chuckled, her being shoved by the guards to move when she failed to follow after him. “Since you wouldn’t know these relics...I’ll just take you to what I need authenticated.” Andora was so caught up in the despair she didn’t recognize the danger of the Chiss woman standing at Grakkus’s side, the woman appraising her while taking notes on the pad she had. She had done the last eight taxidermy pieces for Grakkus, and he was impressed by the woman’s talent for preservation and hiding all the seams. The woman approached Andora, circling her as Andora’s eyes were locked on the sheer amount of stolen relics. It was when the Chiss touched Andora’s scar that she flinched away and finally took an assessment of what was happening. The blue skin and red eyes were a bit washed out by the harsh lighting in this storage room, her black hair in a small bun while she wore a black suit. “How much do you think?” Grakkus asked Herna, as they moved towards his main room. 

“If you want anything done about that scaring it’ll cost extra. I have a solution that should help break it down so I can smooth it out, it won’t be gone entirely but it will remove the overgrowth and discoloration.” The room was a much more muted dark red color, with softer lighting and elaborate display cases about the Jedi and relics, each and every case had tags and screens. Andora suddenly understood just how deep in the bantha pile she was as they passed one of the display cases filled with a posed rodian body in Jedi robes with a makeshift lightsaber in a heroic pose. 

“Can you use it while she is alive?” They were talking over her, as if she wasn’t there, but the humming of her collar kept her in check. 

“It would be more effective. So her skin would probably be ready by the time she’s done working for you.” Herna had her medical droid come up with a bottle of something, checking it over. “Do you have any chemical allergies I should be aware of?” Herna finally asked to Andora, the red eyes unphased that she was asking her next victim to her face if she was allergic to something before turning her into a mannequin. 

“Jump up a Rancor’s ass.” Andora said with as much neutrality as she could but it didn’t save her from falling to her knees and shaking in pain as the collar put electricity through her body. When the collar finally stopped she was struggling to put her thoughts in order, aware she was being held down, with her wrists bound, a knee on her head, and her legs pinned as well. The medical droid started to load the bottle into it’s dispenser arm. Andora was trying to fight the men holding her down, screaming as she was given a higher voltage to put her down for longer. Once she stopped twitching she felt some cold liquid being sprayed on her leg. Maybe the electricity had made her nerves more sensitive, or maybe this was just that bad, but it felt like the skin on her left thigh was burning from the top layer and slowly seeping deeper. This was some type of strong acidic or basic compound based on how badly it hurt. It was a couple of minutes while they held her down before the droid wiped her exposed thigh down, the layers of skin that made up her scarification starting to be peeled away. A spray of water to flush the injury, showed that the raised flesh on her scar was shorter now, and the area was a uniform redness as the black flesh was being washed out by a painfully strong stream of water. Grakkus looked at the area, nodding approvingly, mouse droids waiting to clean up the mess, blood mixing as the black scarring was washed out exposing the flesh underneath. Bacta was then sprayed on the skin, it stopped the physical pain but Andora felt the loss of even that much of her honor so deeply. It was hers! Her mark, her sigil, and they wanted it gone so he could turn her into a doll. She hated them. She wanted to kill them. That hatred was burning deep in her heart, her eyes narrowed on them. How dare this worthless slug do this to anyone, especially her! 

“In another few hours we can do another peel, it should take 2 days to have the skin ready, for now bacta and peel solution rotations every couple hours to help smooth the area. I’ll leave the droid to oversee the care of the skin while she does whatever errand you have for her. You have garments for display?” Herna seems unphased by what she is doing, completely focused on her professionalism in her craft. Andora wasn’t a doll, she wasn’t something for him to play dress up with! 

“Oh...I have a few different ideas, she’s mandalorian but her ancestor was a jedi, so I definitely want to put her in the central case before the armor room after the force relics. ” Grakkus was laughing, Andora feeling the energy she took rushing to the front of her consciousness, and she swore she was going to show that vile slug what pain really was. “I want her to be in a pose that helps accentuate that duality.” Andora was struggling to keep her breathing steady as she stared at the pair, she wanted them to hurt, to suffer! Andora’s breathing was strained, her body trembling with her malignant thoughts, and as she stared into the reflection of their faces in the glass it started to vibrate. Andora could see a faint glowing web like pattern in the glass, leading back to the focal point, her rage channeling towards this weakness. 

“The fixing process will be simple enough.” Herna was not really concerned about his details, just trying to sketch up some possible positions. Humans were a bit boring, their low number of limbs and joints severely limited what she could do with her skills. The Hutt and the Chiss were standing right in front of a display case containing a pair of relics she did not recognize. Grakkus held up his hand to silence Herna, looking at the case closely, Herna leaning in as well. Nothing else was vibrating in the room, so what could possibly be happening? 

_(Trigger warning for eyeball trauma and bloody imagery.)_

“AHHH!” The glass case shattered as the pair leaned in, the fragments exploding towards them violently, the men on top of Andora also shouting in pain as glass pelted them. Andora ducked her face down, feeling some glass cut her scalp and her body, her freshly peeled skin in a new level of agony as the glass easily sliced through the skin. “FUCK!” Herna was desperately trying to keep her eyelids open, not wanting the glass shards to travel under the skin or cut the lids. Screaming for her medical droid to wash out her eyes to get the suspended glass filaments out. Her heart rate skyrocketing as she could see the shadow of the glass pieces impaled into her eyes. There were large chunks in her face as well but that was not what had her terrified. Grakkus was in a similar state of agony, his soft slug flesh lacerated in multiple places, blood welling up and starting to flow, mixing with his mucus layers. He tried to push Herna aside to get the medical droid to treat him first. Other guards rushed into the room at the commotion, frantically sprinting to help their boss. Calls for medics and qualified droids were made, everyone trying to get the glass out from where it had embedded itself. Andora crawled away from the group, digging out glass from her own flesh. The floor was covered in glass and blood. A few mouse droids were getting underfoot, cleaning as the glass was extracted, blood being spread on their treads as they sucked up the glass. They chirped out in terror as they were kicked aside, a thunk sound as the little rectangular droids came to a stop, unable to right themselves. Lord Grakkus was being whisked away where he could be properly treated, Herna’s droid washing out her eyes as its other arm carefully extracted the glass. Herna could feel the glass leaving, a liquid extruding out of the gashes in the sclera. Once all glass was removed she could finally close her eyes, the horrible feeling of the fluid in her eyeball leaking out to mix with the tears escaping down her face. She gripped her droid as it bandaged her eyes before starting to lead her away so she could get her own medical care. 

_(End eyeball stuff)_

Looking around Andora found that in the commotion she was left alone in the private collection room. She worked to shake the glass from her hair and scalp, her fingertips bloodied and she knew she hadn’t gotten it all out but at least the larger pieces were removed. Now that she was under less stress she could feel the residual of others surrounding her in the Force, it was a bit chaotic as it was a mix of cultures. Andora flipped the little droid bots back onto their tracks, the little machines chirping in their language before they set about their tasks cleaning the glass and blood. Inside the case with the shattered glass she looked at the relics, two ornately decorated crystalline shapes, their insides almost glowing under the stage lighting. These two seemed to be the loudest, a woman’s voice from the ruby pyramid, a man’s voice spoke from the sapphire cube. It was overwhelming, the voices seeming to shout over each other in a meaningless jumble of sounds to get her attention. 

Thankfully a familiar drumbeat sliced through the cacophony of voices, drawing her towards it. Relief flowing into her, reminding her of the calmer moments with the cave of ancestors. Gazing up to the sense of comfort her eyes met a set of armor, the insignia unmistakable. Mand’alor Mereel’s armor. She felt her stomach roil in revulsion as she noticed that some of the smaller pieces in the set which should be made from Beskar had been replaced by lower end durasteel. The armor was singing out it’s song, a song filled with honor, of brotherhood, of glorious battles, ending in the deepest of betrayals. Andora sank to her knees, an attentive listener. 

Mereel had been betrayed and robbed of his armor by his own commando. Her family had delivered a death blow to a broken, unarmored, and unarmed man. Tor had killed him, but it had been Montross that broke him. The man that had taken this armor, and sold little pieces of it bit by bit to pay for his lifestyle before ending up here and fighting to the death. The armor had refused to remember much of the thief, and for that she was grateful. She was so focused on the armor she didn’t feel someone behind her until the sharp sting of the tranquilizer shot, her eyes drooping as she slumped into the display case. Cosh Shesh, the Nikto, ordered the men to pick her up and toss her unconscious body into the cylindrical display case that was going to be her new home, locking it firmly. 

“Based on how she was reacting to the armor, it’s safe to say it really is an authentic piece. I’ll need to order a new piece of glass for the holocron cases.” He moved to the open display, the men clearing out the other shards still in the frame to prevent further injury. These two were Master Grakkus’s favorite Force relics, which funnily enough had been brought to him by the last Mandalorian they hired, Montross. With gloved hands Cosh put the information tags back under their corresponding holocrons. Darth Traya, and Master Windu. 

* * *

End Chapter. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The glass in eye was based on the time a sewing machine needle broke and the needle flew into the white section of my eye, nowhere near as bad as the story, but definitely was horrifying. 
> 
> Reviewer Responses: 
> 
> Anne: I am happy you like Vim, I worked hard to make sure that he is a full character. 
> 
> Mannadew: Yes.  
> There is stuff in her backstory that will come out. I would love to share more about Din, but kinda stuck waiting on season two for more stuff for on point details.  
> I have the barabels speaking in third person since that is part of their lore unless they are in private groups. They are my one favorite species to play in Star Wars Saga, so why I am super excited to include them. And Yeah, I think they be strong ladies together and cute at same time. 
> 
> HayanSonyeo: I am happy I am catching you by surprise. I have been trying very carefully to make sure I lay the groundwork and foreshadowing to deliver a twist that is not out of nowhere but is not what is expected. I do like using the mixed perspectives while I write because it helps me see the scenes from all sides and allows me to jump to the perspective that will be more interesting to read. I am glad you think the sex scenes are still serving character development, I feel like it should pay off for character dynamics, and you helped confirm that it is coming across the way I wanted.


	19. Call to Arms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you all like this chapter. I am not very confident with fight scenes so I am trying to practice them. 
> 
> Review response: 
> 
> Anne: I hope this chapter will be a good pay off for your loyal reading!

Light from a setting sun casting a red and orange hue on the cave walls, it seems metal veins in the rocks almost like blood flowing deeper into the unremarkable entrance. The cave was humming with the dull thrum of echoing voices and music. It was pitch black inside the cave ahead of him. He was afraid to go in alone, but as he called out the only answer was the voices inside the cave. A softer set of notes from a flute seemed to come up and help him in, unsure feet stepping deeper at the familiarity of the sound. A woman’s voice singing the lullaby Anra sang to him. With more hurried steps he waddled deeper into the cave, chasing the song. Voices seemed to be coming from all the different holes in the walls of the cave, some nice, some mean, and others just as curious about him as he was of them. The woman’s voice was closer, and he felt more sure of himself on his feet. He was still little, he understood that, but as he ran forward he felt like he was getting bigger. He wanted to keep Dad safe, he wanted to keep Anra safe, and he couldn’t do that if he stayed little forever. The chanting voices were louder, his heart beat racing in time to the song, and he felt like he was closer to family, to home. The cave should be pitch black but instead it was glowing brightly, lights like stars covering the cave walls he could see, and as he ran towards them more and more seemed to support him, to cheer him on. 

The lights began to form into lifeforms, bright shapes echoing their living selves, their battle chants urging him forward. He found himself in front of the man whose helmet Anra had brought with her. A warm smile as the man held out his hand towards him, a simple little black stone in the man’s hand, offering it to him. His claws reached up, trying to take it.

“Hey there little one, you’ll hurt yourself running off like that. Good thing your papa is asleep, he’d pop his helm over this stunt.” Vim chuckled as he easily scooped Pirpak up, his wide eyes opening and he looked at his small hands again, looking around to see that he was outside in the grassy field, the sky full of bright stars as the village lights were out. “You’re like Andora aren’t ya?” Vim hummed out, still holding the baby to his chest as he took a spot on a nearby stone with practiced ease. “Her brother and her used to sleepwalk out here all the time too. Same exact spot.” Vim looked up at the sky, pointing out a light. “That’s Mandalore, you were reaching out for it just like them.” Pirpak looked up at the spot he was pointing out, trying to repeat the word Mandalore. It was full of sounds that were hard to put together. “It’s where Mandalorians started from. The Taung, the original Mandalorians, claimed it as their home when they were forced from Coruscant. There’s a bunch of stuff that happened between, but eventually Mandalore the First claimed it as our home, and we took up the name mandalorian in his honor. We are all children of Mandalore if we choose to walk the path of the warrior.” Vim took a deep breath, remembering this so many times before. His wife, his sons, his grandchildren, and he had the misfortune of out living all of them but one. He held the small green bundle to his chest. “Your dad hasn’t seen it yet, but you’re gonna walk this path. It’s picked you as much as you pick it, let’s just hope it’s kinder to you.” With an aged groan Vim stood up, walking them back towards the home. Inside the small convert Vim can hear Din starting to move about in the room. Vim set the kid down on a pillow as he started putting on his armor. 

Pirpak was still a bit disoriented from his dream, not feeling like he slept at all. The soft singing was still in his ears, and he followed it back into a different hallway. He hopped up and grabbed the handle, the handle turning and the door swinging open into a room. There were armors on the walls, skulls, and other hunting trophies. Dropping from the handle Pirpak walked towards the back end of the room, a piece of fabric covering the back wall. 

“Hey now, making Abr come get you twice in a row isn’t very nice.” (Grandpa) Vim sighed as he walked into the room after him. “If we have time I’ll show you all my prizes later. But right now we have to get back to the meetings.” Pirpak just looked up, his clawed hands on the fabric covering the back wall. Din had followed after the older man when he had started looking around for Pirpak. Pirpak’s eyes light up at seeing his father awake again, gripping the fabric hard in excitement before running towards Din. With a heavy thud the fabric hit the stone floor, exposing the large display case filled with 20 cylindrical objects, all about as long as a typical sword handle. Some were longer or shorter, but all had the same general look. Din looked at the objects, not recognizing them as Pirpak crawled on him. “We have to get a move on soldiers, we’ll discuss this later.” Vim said a bit more firmly, tossing the fabric back on the trophy case. 

Din noted the agitation in Vim’s voice, slowly following his host out of the home into an early dawn, the sun just about cresting the horizon as other armored persons left the little homes to head back towards the center of town for another long day of politics. 

* * *

Senator Ordot was pacing nervously. He had tried contacting his nephews for days now to check if what Gideon had said was true. Nothing. Not so much as a peep, or even a busy signal. It just was nothing. More protesters were in the city center today to decry the reopening of the mines, with a number of people from other political parties all agreeing that this was bad for the environment or finding out about the mine collapse. Even others at the Republic Senate were questioning if it was a smart move since there was no industry that was using the metal, and it was too controversial to use as a currency due to the work of historians like Andora and others had done for relic recovery to help stop the destruction of artifacts that had been stolen during the Imperial era. It had been a massive bill passed by many of the planets that had suffered greatly under the Empire, all agreeing to help support the preservation of cultural and historical relics. 

His aides had been really hesitant to help him organize the announcement speech, and without any endorsement or reassurance he was considering calling the whole thing off. Now that Kahl was gone it seemed his supporters had silently pulled back, and that made him even more nervous. He had hoped that his good will gestures at the funeral would have earned some of their support but no, it was as if they had all left the city, and he was feeling his support slip now that there was no one to contrast himself with. 

“Senator, what should we do?” The aide that had spoken was patiently awaiting something to do since all the senator had done for a few hours now was pace. He was acting odd, and pushing against any suggestions they made, not even meeting with his constituents to discuss what was going on. The Senators’ behavior was setting off warning bells for the aides. 

“I need to be alone right now. A family matter has come up.” Ordot dismissed them, looking like he was calling that secured line again. The Aide looked at the plans Andora had sent them almost two months ago, hands tightening on the data pad as they marched off, remembering the reporter that had been asking for some information on what had happened at the start of the whole affair. If the Senator wasn’t going to act in the people’s best interest, someone had to. 

* * *

“...shell of a man…” The woman’s voice whispered in a sinister tone to her, Andora’s eyes fluttering open as she tried to process the voice. 

“What did you say?” Andora reached up to her head, it spinning from the tranquilizer. 

“...your people fought their last battle…a quiet death...”

“What do you mean..what quiet death?” Andora was trying to focus on the world around her, slowly standing as she walked towards the voice. 

“...easily slain...all that remains…their armor...their code...history” The voice was snickering, her visions of the city devoid of life, dead bodies littering the streets, and it all as silent as the void of space. New horrible images in her mind of empty armors, like back on Navarro. 

“Shut up! It’s not true! I won’t let it be true!” She felt herself slam into the glass walls of her case, slamming her hands on it violently, hearing it shake with the pain in her heart. 

“The dark side of the force..it clouds our vision.” The male voice cut through the woman’s taunting, seeming to send her voice back to a low hum. The visions became blurry and faded, letting Andora see the room she was in, the artifact room. Looking around she realized she was in a display case, the lid sealed shut. It hadn’t happened yet. She had time to stop the visions from happening. “It’s what’s good for the galaxy.” The male voice said accusingly to her, that getting her blood boiling again. “If the prophecy is true.”

“I won’t let the Mandalorians end. I won’t, we deserve to live!” She was trying to open the lid, its magnetic lock not budging in the slightest. “Tenn!” (Open!) 

“Test your resolve...Let us find out who is right.” The declaration was powerful, and she felt her energy bubbling up once again. “Focus on the weak point...follow your sight in the Force...channel your fear into courage...your anger into anticipation...and your hate into love...redirect the darkness into light.” She tried, really she did, her heart pounding as she tried to focus on the words this voice spoke to her, her vision seeing the spiderweb once more in the glass around her. She followed where these lines focused, exerting everything she had on that point, the crack forming, the familiar chiming jingle of the glass breaking, it coming undone, about to rupture. 

“Not a second time.” Any thoughts she had were wiped as the blinding pain of the shock collar kicked in. She crumpled to her knees, curling in on herself as she suffered from electricity coursing through her body. Grakkus was back, bandages covering his entire front half, and he seemed to be wearing medical goggles over his eyes. “What a dirty trick to play on me, pretending to be a simple historian. But I have seen you now girl… and I will make you a part of my collection forever. A true Mandalorian Jedi for my exhibit.” He was staying away from the glass but still circled her like she was prey. “I wonder how long you can handle the shocks before your heart gives out?” Grakkus said softly, more to himself than to Andora. He pressed the button again, watching her writhe in pain as vindication for his own suffering. He would have preferred throwing her in the ring, but last time he had done that, the Jedi had escaped, and he had been arrested. No chances this time. When the timer on the collar ran out he watched her limbs twitching, seeing her eyes full of hatred glaring at him. “That’s two.” 

* * *

“What do we do? I can see into his office, she won’t last long with the shocks he’s giving her.” Cara was patched into the security cameras through the guard tower station she had taken over. The Armorer was still on her ship, the two chatting over a com link channel. 

“We need a diversion.” The Armorer spoke calmly. “Can you get to her?” Cara could hear the engines humming back to full as they spoke. 

“If all the guards are busy, yeah. It’s an easy enough spot to reach. Has nice big windows I can bust through no problem.” She had a large heavy artillery blaster on her back, her armor on, and some war paint to help hide her face. She had some grenades and circuit over loaders for other obstacles, along with a good old fashioned rope and grapple hook. “How are we going to distract th-” Before she could finish Cara heard the roar of an engine as the ship they were flying swung into the arena building in a bomber run, huge chunks of the building getting holes blasted into it. Craters in the grounds, and a massive rumble sounding. Seems like her friend had some highly illegal long burning artillery as the building caught fire from the liquid that was splashed everywhere. There hadn’t been a fight tonight so the fighting arena had been empty, but the damage was causing the alarms to go off, and all the people were rushing to look while others were trying to get airborne to go after the enemy ship. 

“That should keep them busy. Go.” Cara didn’t need to be told twice, she dropped from the guard tower onto the perimeter wall and started running towards the main building. Her armor helped her blend in for the night time raid, and her training with the rebels made it easy for her to carry the heavy blaster's weight. The screech of engines as small atmosphere ships rose up and after the Armorer’s ship helped deafen the scream of the guard that she ran into as she slammed her weight into them. Pinning them to the ground in a sweep to take advantage of her momentum, pivoting on her knee, which was buried in the guards chest, and snapping his neck with her other leg. Rotating with her full armored weight as she finished the maneuver in a low crouch which she used to help hide herself from the aircrafts darting overhead. Hearing the ships move ahead she stood up and finished her run towards the entrance, shifting her shoulders to roll the blaster into position as she started shooting the guards by the door before they recognized the threat, their bodies flying over the railing to the ground two stories below. Her heart was pumping in excitement, the combat high kicking in as she popped a lock breaker on the door and charged through, rolling between open spots in the hallways, cradling the blaster to her chest to prevent it stopping her flow. Most people were running to escape the building since they didn’t know if another bombing run was being made. Since they ignored her she ignored them, shoving past them as she took the lift up, others rushing down the stairs. Back against the wall she crouched low, ready to take out counter forces when the lift opened. As soon as the doors opened there was some blaster fire, it all aimed at chest height since they had expected an untrained opponent. She rolled into a position on her stomach and used the weight and her shoulder to help brace the kickback as she unloaded into the surprised guards. The three dropped to the ground, Cara smirking as she jumped up and rushed to the large ornate doors. She silently pushed them open, blaster up and pointed in the direction she could hear Andora’s exhausted cries from. She put a disruptor on the door lock, making sure she wouldn’t get caught from behind. 

“Drop the remote slug!” Grakkus looked over at her, his cybernetic limbs stomping in anger. “Drop it or I shoot.” Cara growled again, not looking at Andora. Her eyes firmly fixed on the massive Hutt. She could see the polished blade finish to his legs, and she did not want to be caught by surprise. His hand let the remote drop, it clacking to the floor as he extended to his full height. “Back away slowly.” He took a step back except for one leg, the point of the leg stabbing the remote, it overloading Andora’s collar. The blood curdling scream was an agonized pitch before her body went limp, only twitching from the high voltage. 

“Whoops, clumsy me.” He was smirking as much as he could with the amount of bandages to his face. Cara snarled as she shot a bolt into the slug, or at least where he was supposed to be. He was fast! She had to roll to avoid his massive weight slamming her, or the points of his legs as he barreled past her in the room. He stopped before he hit one of the display cases, giving Cara an idea. She rushed to jump up onto a stand, taking shots at him as he moved, the sound of glass breaking as the shots missed, the clacking of his legs louder as he rushed to swipe her off the vantage point. “Stop shooting my collection you worthless human!” Cara was about to blast Grakkus in the face point blank when suddenly her right arm went limp from pain, taking a blaster bolt to the limb. Cosh had been in the back section of the room trying to figure out what had been going on outside, but was now coming to his Master’s defence. Cara was swept off the case and onto the floor. Grakkus walked over ready to deliver a death blow with his leg to her skull, Cara reaching down for the grenade at her belt, holding it up with her hand on the pin. 

“You wretched little human…” Grakkus hissed, not willing to risk the grenade going off in the room. “I will hunt down everyone you have ever known and loved if you pull that pin!” Cara cast her eyes around the room, both men’s attention on her. Neither noticed Andora’s limping form as she approached the slug. With a smirk Cara looked up at Grakkus before tossing the grenade towards Cosh who dived on it to try and disarm it. “NO!” Grakkus rose up till he was only on his back four cybernetic legs, getting ready to slam into her with his full weight. His face, contorted in rage, swiftly turned into a look of agony as his energy was rapidly being drained from him. Cara rolled out of the way as the slug slammed down, watching in shock as Andora was clutching his flesh, the Hutt screaming and trying to reach behind and pull her free only for him to seemingly melt into the floor as his fighting stopped. 

Andora was panting heavily, her entire body so far past pain she wasn’t entirely sure she was still connected to it anymore. She needed to survive, and she had pulled energy from the Hutt to do it. Her hands reached up and ripped the collar off, the shocking effect seemingly no longer registering with her overstimulated nerves. Everything was so clear, she felt like everything was in slow motion as she heard the small click, click timer of the grenade as the mechanism was about to trigger. She couldn’t let it blow up in here. The relics needed to be protected. With a skill not her own her hand snapped out in front of her, a twisting motion of her fingers and wrist as she picked up the grenade and Cosh, tossing them both out the window, the explosion sending a concussion wave that shattered all the remaining display cases, a wave of heat that should have hurt rolling over them before it fizzed out. 

Cara was terrified as Andora looked around with acid yellow eyes, seeing the display of power absolutely frightened her. It had already been creepy when the kid had somehow choked her with just his will but that. It wasn’t right. Andora blinked, her eyes returning to their green hue as she slumped onto the ground, not really feeling the glass cutting her legs and feet. Cara shook herself out of it. She’d deal with weird magic later, right now she had to get out before the explosion drew guards up here. 

“I’ve got her, windows are open for extraction if you can.” Cara wasn’t sure what to do about touching Andora. Seeing as what touching her did to the slug, she wasn’t eager to try it herself. 

“Just getting them off my six. Be ready.” Cara could hear the sound of the ships guns blasting their targets, hearing echoes of the same blasts with her own ears. She was close. Turning around to pick up Andora, Cara cursed as she saw the bloody trail that walked through the room towards a set of armor. She rushed in, seeing Andora’s bleeding injuries closing up into smooth skin again. Andora was pulling the armor down from the case, tossing some of the pieces away as she put it on. 

“Oh for Kriff’s sake hurry up! We are gonna have company.” It would have been fascinating to watch as Andora rapidly slipped into the full set if not for the shouts of people outside the door. 

“I can’t leave him behind!” It didn’t fit right, too big from the height difference but that didn’t seem to matter. Wearing a helmet now Andora turned to Cara, nodding silently as she moved to the two glowing shapes, grabbing them with her as she got perched on the window sill, ready to jump. They could see the ship coming in hot, its shield deflecting shot after shot as it turned on its side, trying to protect its loading doors. They were opened up, Cara forcing her injured arm to keep working as the door broke in, shooting suppressing fire at the guards. Andora jumped into the ship, the heavy metal clank of her landing giving Cara her cue to join. Tucking into the jump, Cara bit her lip to stifle her pain as the doors closed and the ship made a reckless twist skyward, flying close to the Hutt ship to avoid taking excessive fire before jumping to hyperspace as soon as it cleared the ship. It was a short jump, the ship not having a chance to correct its position. They were in an empty space, giving them some time to come to terms with what they had just survived. Cara sat up, hissing as she clutched her arm. It was not the first time she had been shot, but it always sucked. Andora started to strip back out of the armor she had taken, slumping against the wall in a daze. Cara was a bit confused, Andora’s hair had been much shorter and pure red but now her locks were down to her waist, and a rich brown color, with the bottom half still dyed red. The Armorer came over, med kit at the ready and moving to Cara first as she told Andora where the shower was. The other woman numbly nodded, helping herself to the compartment. The Armorer easily removed the pauldron and chest piece of Cara’s body armor, the med kit spread open as she started to treat the unsightly burn where the blisters were forming underneath burnt skin. Biting down on some fabric Cara endured getting the burnt flesh removed so the bacta could be rubbed onto the blistering skin below. 

“It’ll scar.” Even through the modulator Cara could hear the apologetic tone.

“I know. Not my first one.” She was focused on her breathing to stop herself from hyperventilating or going into shock. Feeling the blissful relief of the bacta cream on her skin Cara moaned, just wanting to lay down and recover. 

“We can stop on Navarro to let you get treatment.” It was a bit out of the way, but her role in this was over. No need to push her while she was injured, the Armorer had seen enough soldiers die from infected injuries to know that it was flirting with disaster. 

“No, I have to talk to Mando about something.” Cara didn’t want to mention the strangeness she saw from Andora while trapped on a ship with her. They could hear the water flowing as Andora washed, Cara feeling a bit bad for not trusting the woman as she could hear stifled sobs. The Armorer finally noticed the pile of things that were taken off on her ship, a gasp as she recognized that crest. She walked over, seeing the smeared blood. Without a word she collected the armor and began her work of cleaning and properly caring for the items. The water stopped and after a few moments they saw Andora come back wrapped in just a towel. 

“Any chance you can spare something to wear. I don’t feel like heading into a war in a slave outfit.” 

* * *

Din had slept, but he was still struggling to stay focused, feeling every fiber of him agitated with this whole process and more interested in getting more intel from the prisoners to try and figure out what to do. It had been hours of debate and posturing, and dredging up old issues with each other. It was nearly lunch, Din trying to keep the kid fed. For some reason the kid had been listening attentively, and it made Din wonder if the little guy understood more than he let on. At some point the kid had been focusing his gaze up towards the ceiling, as if he could sense something coming. A young kid from the village rushed over as discreetly as he could to Vim, whispering something to the veteran, Vim telling Din to say as he went to go deal with the issue. It seems that Vim really was the security for this little village. It was a while before Vim came back, The veteran was easily six feet in his armor, but the person who stepped in behind him was a foot taller, scales glistening in the low light, sharp vicious teeth seemingly bared in a permanent grin. The reptilian being had bright red irises with a vertical slit that dilated to the lower light in the room from the bright exterior. The alien was wearing armor on top of her simple dress, the spear that was serving as her walking stick was her height. Behind her was another reptilian creature, this one seemed to be about five and a half feet, this one also wearing armor, but much to everyone's horror they could see human jaw bones embedded in it. The older female turned and seemed to be gently hissing to the smaller one, waiting till the smaller one squared her shoulders and moved to walk behind Vim as the larger one followed. The smaller one was wearing a set of beige robes under the armor. Din noticed a small metal necklace on the smaller one's neck, it clicking into place. Barabels. This larger female must be Zalle...and the younger one was wearing Andora’s old armor. Vim gestured for them to join him and Din. Pirpak’s eyes were wide, a big smile on his face as he crawled towards the newcomers at their table.

“Oya!” (Hello) Pirpak chirped out, little claws reaching out. The younger barabel seemed to turn excitedly towards his son, Din worried his son was in danger. 

“Oya katdra'ne resa.” (Hello little light.) The entire room except Vim was shocked at this. This alien just walked in and started speaking in Mando’a. The speeches were all half hearted and distracted, nervous glances to the newcomers. After lunch it was Clan Vizsla, of House Vizsla’s turn. Vim stood in his full armor, shoulders squared waiting till everyone was looking at him, which wasn’t hard as his corner was now filled with two Barabels and a Mando with his baby. 

“Clan Vizsla has over 3,000 warriors from our allies the Barabels. They are here as a favor to repay a war debt to my bu’ad for helping them when she was just a child on their planet. My bu’ad helped them fight off the Empire when she was barely 14, wearing just the armor this little one is wearing now. My bu’ad has fought and killed more combatants before turning 16 than many of you have in your whole career.” (Grandchild) Vim paused, placing his hand reassuringly on the younger Barabel’s shoulder. 

“She’s not here, you can’t vote for someone that’s not here!” Came a frustrated shout from the other side of the room, a deep rumble emitted by the larger Barabel quickly silencing the interruption. 

“She’s not my pick, if you would shut yer yap I could finish.” That caused a murmur of confusion among the room, Din wondering if it was the older or younger Barabel he was voting for. “My bu’ad is missing because she risked her life to save the honor of her pick.” Din felt like the world just spun under him. “I cast the vote for the Death watch tribe on Navarro, the vote for Clan Reka and their cohort of 3,000 warriors, and Clan Vizsla, for the Alor of Clan Mudhorn as Mand’alor till we defeat Moff Gideon.” Din stood up, seeing everyone looking at him. 

“The Barabels don’t get a vote.” It was the same man speaking up again. Everyone watched as the larger Barabel stood up and walked over, picking the man in his armor up and off the ground easily, dangling him like a child. 

“Narir gar athu'neha akaan'ade at akaan?” (Did you bring an army to the war?) She asked in a hissed out version of Mando’a. The man shook his head no, the Barabel dropping him to the ground, watching him fall on his backside. “Dr vie catuya jatur sto.” (Then our vote is worth more.) 

“So by my count that’s three for Clan Mudhorn, any other takers?” Vim sounded eager to end this meaningless talk. A few more hands raised around the room, Vim knew he could count on them. A majority vote was cast in his favor. 

“To our new Mand’alor!” Vim held up Din’s arm, a loud hu-rah filling the room as the groups began to stand and move since the voting had ended. 

* * *

  
  


End chapter. 


	20. Munit tome'tayl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review Responses: 
> 
> Anne: I am hoping that it came across well for Din to get voted up. I just really like the idea of our humble hunter getting thrust into the spotlight.
> 
> XxSwanSongxX: Yes, I found it a fun little cameo. 
> 
> ale_oop: We have not had the full impact of that scene yet, it's just kinda simmering since so many other things are going on. I did like it since its a power that makes sense but I hadn't seen used in the universe, but is not overpowered.
> 
> M3gan15xo : Thank you for your compliments! I am glad Din and Andora work together as a couple, I am working to keep them on equal footing. Your warm words are really valued! I really enjoy sharing this with all of you readers.

Munit tome'tayl- Long memory

* * *

The outskirts of the village were now the encampment for the Barabels, the different clans setting up their war banners to proclaim themselves as they awaited the two females that had gone into human settlement. Many were taking in the mild climate, it was such a drastic change from their own world. Friendly wrestling matches were popping up, the younger warriors eager to wet their fangs in a real fight like their parents had before them. There were a few of the history keepers as well, them excitedly discussing how to begin this story of their people’s great war off world. It was loud, filled with cheers, war chants, and some warriors sneaking off to burn off some excitement in more carnal ways, their volume betraying their attempts at discretion. If the crowds had been human and wearing armor Vim would have thought he was back in his youth at his first war camp. 

No wonder Andora had loved it with the Barabel's. This was more like the Mandalorians he remembered than the ones he knew now. Vim was bringing over some barrels of drinks, the Barabels eager to take the liquor and help themselves. Din was discussing with the Barabel leader trying to get an idea of what these troops would be capable of. Despite the hunter’s private protest to Vim that he was the wrong choice, the man took to the role seriously. Din hadn’t wasted time with pleasantries, not concerned with making friends in the meeting hall. He had said all fighting soldiers needed to be here by dawn, and walked out to meet his current army. Din was looking for strengths and weaknesses, and calculating out their options. A message came in for Vim on his comm channel, the man pulling it up. 

“She’s alive. How did the council vote?” Vim was relieved with the update, not even bothered with the gruff greeting.

“Well, about 3,000 of her closest friends showed up so that swayed the vote in his favor. He’s coming up with something now.” He paused, walking a bit away from the hearing range of the others. “Is she willing to talk to me?” 

“She doesn’t know you were involved.” Was the measured response he was given. 

“Why not?” Vim hissed in anger, moving to talk away from the ears of others, barely visible on the outskirts of the campfire.

“She’s already emotionally volatile, the last thing I need is her getting out of control on my ship.” The Armorer’s visor gave nothing away. “They tried to remove her sigil, it looks like an acid wash over the skin, it's still peeling away even with the bacta applied.” He could hear her navigation system beeping in the background. “She’ll need some clothes, I don’t have anything on the ship. We should be there in a few more hours.” A few more hours. He could see his little bu’ad again, whether she liked it or not. 

“Park near the gate house. Ain't letting the whole army see her like that.” The transmission ended. He heard the sound of cooing from behind him, turning to see the baby and the barabel kid standing there. “What’s up you little ankle biters?” He tried to keep the humor in his voice, keep the kids happy and let them think they got away with eavesdropping. 

“He followed you, this one follow him.” Saba said in a rush, trying to sound innocent enough. 

“Oya.” Pirpak chirped, making grabbing motions towards Vim. “Laam.” (up) Saba made to pick up the kid but Vim scooped him up first. “Anra?” The small chuckle escaped Vim before he could stop it. 

“Yeah, she’s coming soon.” That seemed to make the kid go hyper, him slapping his hands on Vim’s chest and arms, excited babbling. “But you two already feel that don’t ya?” 

“This one wasn’t sure.” Saba said softly, kicking at the ground under her feet. “Will she be happy to meet this one?” He understood that the two females spoke Mando’a, and he was suspecting more in their clan did too.

“Sure she will, might be a big surprise though. She hasn’t seen any of your kind for a long while.” Vim was hoping that maybe enough good surprises would help keep her from fighting with him.

“You are longfang of her clan?” Saba asked, her tail swishing behind her, the dust getting kicked up. Vim nodded as he moved Pirpak to sit on his shoulder. “You have powers like her too?” 

“Nay, that all came from her mother.” The kid was nosy and trying to get more information, but he didn’t see any harm in it. “She’ll love meeting you, don’t stress it so much.” 

* * *

“Braig I-” 

“Ne'johaa aruetii.” (Shut up traitor.) Braig hissed to Xig, all of the troopers faces swollen and bashed in from their interrogations, Xig the only one off easy with just the hits he took from the bounty hunter. “Yir.” (Everything.) It was spit out with venom and a little blood. “Jorcu be gar mhi echoy'la yir.” (Because of you we lost everything.) Braig tried to stand up, but Vim had gracelessly delivered a meaningful kick after they were alone. “Ner gai, ner kote, cuun yaim'ol.” (My title, my glory, our homecoming.) The other troopers were looking away from the brothers, the prospect of having finally come home bittersweet. They were back in their star system, as enemies. “An be bic. Gar betkr.” (All of it. Your fault.) Xig shrinked back against the wall he was propped on, the weight of the betrayal and the crushed hopes of his fellow soldiers. 

“Ni cuyir ni ceta.” (I’m sorry.) Xig didn’t want to give up hope, but what could they possibly do now. Gideon was going to win. “Ni shi copaanir at narir meg cuyir staabi par cuun adate.” (I just wanted to do what was right for our people.) 

“You picked her over your brother! Because of you that spineless bounty hunter is Mand’alor instead of me!” There were footfalls outside the shed they were locked in, a slam on the door. 

“Shut up. The town is trying to sleep.” The posted guards were some of the younger men from the town. 

“Besom.” (Asshole) Braig hissed at the door. Another slap ringing out. 

“Mhi jorhaa'ir Ciyitiryav mr hyetyinu'ka.” (We speak Mando'a too dipshit.) The guys were chatting quietly outside. After a few hours they hear the sound of new footfalls outside, and a heavy dragging sound. The guard was changing over it seemed. Instead the door opened and allowed a large male Barabel to walk in with Vim. The Barabel Tokor looked towards Xig under Vim’s direction, easily tossing the human male on his shoulder and began walking out with him. As angry as Braig was, there was fear in his eyes at the sight of his little brother being taken away. 

“Don’t you dare eat him you Savages!” Braig knew exactly what these aliens were, he had checked Andora’s record before setting his sights on her. The dragging sound had been the tails in the dirt. From the still open door walked in two more Barabels, both of them taking seats on the inside of the room by the door. 

“You let my brother go! These things eat people!” Pointedly ignoring Braig’s outburst, Vim just huffed a sigh and sat on a box in the room. 

“He has a blaster shot to the leg, unless you want to amputate it yourself, best let them take him for medical care. Least they can eat the scraps.” Vim laughed harshly, giving the Barabels a grin over his shoulder. He liked these warriors, and hated Braig. The Barabels exchanged glances with each other, speaking in their native language and then licking their fangs at the bound men, a round of hissing laughter escaping them at the way the prisoners flinched.

“How many men do you have waiting to turn on Gideon?” Vim was handling this to give Din time to meet Andora. The kids had been buzzing like flies at any movement in the sky, and while more Mandalorians in full armor showed up, the Barabels were still the mass of their fighting force. 

“...” Braig held his tongue.

“Nalku'na ni. Ra Ni malyasa'yr bas neral gar at etid.” (Answer me. Or I'll feed you to them.) The two barabels were hissing louder in laughter, confirming Vim’s suspicions that more of them spoke Mando’a. 

* * *

Din watched the ship land out at the guard post near Vim’s home, his heart beating faster than he wanted to admit. This was selfish of him. He should be focusing on the war effort, but...he wanted to see her, to tell her he would have come after her. The ramp lowered, Cara coming down first with the Armorer walking behind her and straight into town as if she knew where she was going. Andora didn’t come out, Din looking towards his friend. 

“She is waiting for some clothes.” Cara said as she came to pat Din on the shoulder, trying to think of how to explain what she saw. “Hey...she’s...she did some freaky stuff out there. Like the kid but...scarier. She threw a man out a window, without touching him.” Cara held firm on her friends’ shoulder, needing him to understand.

“That’s stronger than she said she was.” Din was a bit confused by that, but he also didn’t understand enough about the magic she had to know if that was how it was supposed to work. Kid lifted a mudhorn, so a typical sized life form seemed reasonable. “Thank you for going after her. You’re a good friend.” 

“You’re just gonna go up to her and act like that’s normal.” Cara sounded aghast at how nonchalant he was about this. 

“It’s not.” Din said with a deadpan tone, Cara’s eyes shifted as she noticed the kid getting lifted onto the ramp ahead of them, a childlike reptilian climbing up after him. The little green bundle in his robes waddling up into the ship, the Barabel carrying a bundle of cloth in her arms. Din nodded his head back to the kids who thought they had snuck by unnoticed. “Normal is not really a factor anymore.” He could hear Pirpak chanting ‘Anra’ excitedly, Saba sheepishly waving at realizing she had been caught. Cara waved back awkwardly, still not comfortable with kids. “We’re gonna need your skills, we’re outnumbered and outgunned. Can I count on you?” 

“Killing Imps is what I do best.” Cara sighed before giving him a look. “Just be careful. When we left she was bleeding and cut up and now not a damn scratch. It feels wrong.” 

“Kid healed up Karga, she healed herself up. It’s not that different.” 

“She did something to that Hutt, when she touched him he just...it was like she was killing him just by touching him. I don’t even know if he was breathing after she pulled her hand off him. And the yellow of her eyes...” Cara was finding the event more and more horrible the longer the image had run through her head.

“Armor handles that, no contact.” Din was trying to reassure his friend. Cara couldn’t really argue that point. With a last look towards the interior of the ship where the kids had slipped off, Cara made to follow after the Armorer into the small town. Walking up the ramp Din could hear Andora talking to the kids. He could hear fabric rustling, seeing Saba smiling proudly as Andora pulled on the clothes she had brought for her. It looked like a spare set of the fabric and leather garb other barabel’s were wearing. The dress was tight on her chest, and opened up into a long flowing skirt with a small train since the garment was designed to accommodate a tail. The leather vest tied over the chest and draped like Kama on the sides at the beltline. He was a bit shocked at the way her hair looked, the vibrant red near her waist since the locks had grown out. That was very unnatural. Andora was busy leaning down to pick up Pirpak who was chanting nonstop to be held, Saba nervously stumbling over her words and seemed to be unsure how to properly introduce herself. Din watched the way Andora easily set the kid on her hip and smiled warmly at Saba, thanking her for the spare clothes. He noticed the hastily discarded garments tossed to the floor, seeing the tiny scraps and realizing just how much of her must have actually been on display against her will. He took a step forward, his heavy boots clinking on the grated floor of the ship, Andora’s head snapping to him. The shy blushing smile on her face hurt him. How could she give him that look when he had failed her. Din wasn’t sure when he had taken the last few steps towards her, Pirpak babbling excitedly and touching her hair, trying to keep her attention as she looked Din over. 

“Ow!” Pirpak pulled her hair hard, babbling in what he felt were solid enough words. She huffed as she was looking at Pirpak, her long locks tangled in his hands. “Hey, I am trying to be flirty with your Dad and you are mucking it up.” Pirpak was not deterred, his babbling louder now, his face scrunched up as she didn’t understand him. Andora sighed, leaning down and pulling him closer to her face, kissing his forehead and trying to untangle her hair. “I missed you too little guy.” Pirpak’s ears perked up excitedly and he started babbling again. “What’s up little guy? It was just a couple days without me. Don’t go all squishy on me verd’ika.” (Little soldier) 

“He wanted you to stay with him, he didn’t understand why you weren’t there when the smoke cleared.” Din spoke softly, helping pull her hair free and his hand lingering on her shoulder. “He didn’t understand how I failed to keep you… with him.” His hand moved up to her cheek, barely brushing over it. Her lips parted as she pushed into his touch. “Andora...”

“This one is sorry, this is bad time to talk.” Saba blurted out nervously, her tail hitting the legs of the workbench as she hurried to leave. Andora jerked her head to look at the retreating girl, embarrassed for having made the helpful kid feel awkward. 

“I didn’t even get to ask her name.” Andora adjusted Pirpak against her side, leaning down to pick up the discarded ‘clothes’ fully intending to toss them in the bin at the first chance. Din wanted to say so many things to her right now, but now wasn’t the time. “Are we really going to war with Gideon?” He gave a nod, his hand slipping to her waist to lead her out of the ship and get her up to speed. 

“That girl is Saba, she is Zalle’s daughter. She brought the Barabels here as an army for us.” Andora looked to him, her eyes wide with shock. 

“An entire Army of them here for us? But they don’t travel off world.” Din moved them forward and pointed to the large encampment. The camp was still rowdy as the Barabels were showing a great vigor for prewar partying. He felt her step away from him, standing on the balls of her bare feet to see more. “This is great! They’re vicious in battle. I bet you half those troopers surrender after they watch someone getting ripped apart and chewed on. I do hope Zalle will recognize me. Do you know if Tokor is here too?” Din felt a jealous stab at her being so eager to find her friends instead of being with him right now. She turned to him, and he could see tears on her face. “Can you tell?” 

“Tell what?” His voice was more clipped than he meant, but she didn’t seem phased, not registering anything beyond herself right now. He saw her hand not holding Pirpak move to her left thigh, her sigil. He reached out to touch it when she didn’t say anything else, feeling an expanse of almost smooth skin under the fabric. “Andora… I can’t tell.” As much as he wanted to be angry, as much as he wanted answers, she needed him calm and to reassure her, no one would be able to tell but her it wasn’t there. Focus on the fight ahead, not the fight behind. When this was over, he would make up this loss to her, somehow he would make it right. He took Pirpak from her so she could wipe her face off. “I can take you to the Crest to get your things.” She shook her head. 

“It would be rude of me to do that after she brought me clothes. I have to wear them today at least. Besides, I have to meet the Mand’alor and find out how I can help. No time to waste on my wardrobe.” He could hear her trying to move onto something else, her hands flapping around to avoid going back to her thigh, the high pitch of her voice giving away her discomfort. Din followed down the ramp behind her, her body bouncing with nervous energy. “Do we have an idea of how many we are facing?”

* * *

  
( 20 years ago)

Adkote Vizsla was panting heavily as the blaster fire passed over the trench they had dug. The red streaks glowing in the night sky. His armor scorched in some places. The Empire was really making this harder than it needed to be. He blinked away the sweat stinging his eyes under the helmet. His unit that had dug the trench was dead around him. They had been fighting for eight hours already, the dawn was almost here, meaning the damned Imps would be back in force. Every Verd (soldier) had marched on to Manda* valiantly, but Adkote had no desire to join them so soon.

“Hiibir hukaatir!” (Take cover!) The sound of rapid fire from Paz’s weapon rang out, each shot was lighting up the darkness, the dull thud of bodies hitting the ground barely registering over the other sounds. The large guy slid into the trench, his bulky armor barely fitting into the hole. “Hey Vod, what you doing up here by yourself? Taking all the glory huh?” Paz smacked him hard on the back, as affectionate ribbing, and also putting them both down before the returning fire as the troopers advanced. Adkote grabbed the concussion grenade on his belt, Paz popping up to provide suppressing fire as he pulled his arm back and tossed the grenade, adding a little extra oomph with his powers to push the light object further out towards their foes. Both young men ducked back down, counting to 6 before the grenade went off, dirt flying over them. 

“Mirdir val hiibir sruku'aya?” (Think they took the hint?) Adkote joked to his cousin, his heart pounding with the rush of adrenaline. Paz had been replacing his slug rounds in his weapon, shit was effective but damn if it wasn’t a pain in the shebs (ass).

“Gideon never does, bastard just won’t take no for an answer. It's almost flattering he wants us this bad.” Paz huffed, both men trying to get ready to hold this line till the rest of the group caught up. “Got any cool magic tricks you can pull out right now?” Both men rolled up to shoot the troopers getting back up from the grenade, the bodies falling with blaster burns on their armor. A tense silence fell on the area, barely breathing for fear that breaking the sudden silence would trigger the next wave. The crater from the grenade was still smoking. They were tensed and ready, their scanners sweeping the empty field. They followed their training and didn’t move. No orders had come in, and no one joined them, which was starting to weigh on them as time passed in agonizing incriments. Adkote felt something shift in the force, his mother's voice ringing in his head.

“We need to move!” Adkote said, panic in his voice. He tried to grab Paz’s arm to drag his cousin along, the weight too much and sending the thinner man to ground, but he was still scrambling to crawl out. “The Alor is retreating! They're leaving us out here to draw Gideon’s fire!” 

“Abr wouldn’t let that happen. We stay put Verd!” Paz couldn’t let some frazzled nerves compromise their mission. They were the vanguard, and they had to have faith in their Alor. 

“Paz! It's not my nerves! You wanted a magic trick, here it is, we need to get out of here before they blast us straight to Manda*!” Adkote wouldn’t leave Paz behind, but damn it his cousin was built like a fucking tank and weighed as much too. 

“Abr won’t let us down. Now shut up and keep at your post.” Paz was struggling to hold Adkote down, the sniper freaking out like he had never done before. “I’ll call if it will calm your shebs down.” Paz huffed as he tried connecting with their fellow Verd, the call signal blocked. 

Weird. He tried the next person in the chain of command. 

Nothing. He tried again, trying to reach out to any other comm signals, even hopping onto the open comms channel. 

Nothing at all. He’d been blocked out. He was calling Vim, Abr surely wouldn’t have them blocked. 

The signal was struggling to get through. The old bastard was in hyperspace. 

Paz felt his stomach sink, rolling off Adkote and picking the smaller man up, tossing him on his shoulder as he started running towards the rocks where their bunker was. Lost lives only for the pair to end up where they had started after dinner. All they sacrificed for nothing right now. 

“Val ba'slanar vid…mhi cuyir sacitadr geraor.” (They left us, we’re cannon fodder.) Adkote hissed, his blaster out and aimed behind them as Paz moved. Adkote was trying to get through himself, recognizing with a cold wave what was happening. The trench a click behind them now. “Our signals are being rerouted to the imperial channels. Turn off your scanners!” Paz listened this time. There were bodies littering their escape route, a mix of fellow Verd and Imps rotting on the ground. They had fought hard to build up to the trench, but as they reached the bunker in the cliff face Paz felt sick to his stomach, ready to puke at the betrayal. Adkote reached out, the cousins gripping hands as they both gave a quick remembrance to the company they had just lost. Adkote ripped his helmet off, pouring water on his face to try and reorient himself. He started to turn off all the possible electronics the Imps could use to track them down. Paz took his own helmet off, staring down at his water canteen but unable to drink it, the nausea overwhelming. Both men sat there silently, the reality of their situation dawning on them. Adkote pulled his helmet back on after a while, crawling on his stomach near the bunker entrance, looking through his scope down the battlefield, letting his breathing even out as he just focused on keeping his senses open. 

The sun that had been barely rising when they retreated was now shining in the early morning light. Paz had tossed the ghillie suit over him so he could avoid having his armor and gun give away their position. The screech of Tie fighters was almost deafening as the ships made a run through the canyon they had been in barely an hour ago, the rumble from the bombs going off a pretty good indicator that they would have been dead men had they followed orders. The pair held their position, forced to watch as the Imps marched back over the field, seeing the floating cargo crates being loaded up not with the Empire’s corpses, but with the armor they were looting off their Vods bodies. Adkote had to hold his fire. As much as he wanted them to pay for this, they had to make it out alive. Paz was working deeper inside the cave, rigging up the explosives on their escape route. 

“Tsikala.” (Ready) Paz said in a hushed tone. Adkote slowly crawled back, his muscles tensed and sore from going so long without rest. This was day four. Grabbing any weapon they could reasonably carry and reloading his favored grenades, Adkote stepped over the tripwire and waited for Paz to lead them down the escape tunnel. This should get them out of the Imps range. His mother's last words in his mind like a mantra to help him stay focused and brave. 

“Akaanir jorcu gar kar'taylir darasuum meg cuyir sulyu gar, va jorcu gar or'parguur meg cuyir a'yaou be gar.” (Fight because you love what's behind you, not because you hate what's in front of you.) His voice was chanting it softly as he tried to keep himself calm. He wasn’t meant to be a fighter. He just wanted to be a musician. He missed his band, he missed his girlfriend, he missed not being shot at. Four years of this shit was more than enough to last a lifetime. Silent tears ran down his face, allowing himself to be weak while no one was watching. He was a Vizsla, and he needed to earn that name. Dad was busy working as an intelligence agent in the Mandalore Journeymen, feeding the Mandalorian resistance information on the movements of the Empire. His cousins, his uncles, and his aunts all were out on a battlefield somewhere or working in sabotage positions against the Empire. His thoughts drifted to his little sister as they marched silently in the dark passage. He reached out to her in the force, a fleeting touch to reassure himself she was okay. He would get these bastards out of their star system. She pinged him back, her reckless bravery pulsing out from the connection. He could do this. A thunderous boom from behind them shook the dugout passage, both men stopping as they listened for a moment. The Imps were getting closer. Paz sped up his march into a jog, Adkote hot on his heels in the cramped space. They broke through the escape hatch. It should be a few more kilometers towards the command center. 

* * *

End Chapter. 


	21. The House Divided

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviewer response: 
> 
> Anne- I am so glad their affection for each other reads really well, I love baby yoda and am excited about finding out his real name lol. And yeah, Adkote is a character I really like and it hurt writing his perspective knowing what he was going to have happen. 
> 
> Redhouseclan: I wish I could give answers but that would be spoilers. lol This fic loves you too.

(20 years ago) 

Gideon’s troops had pinned them down after the fighters had flown over them, and one of those bastards had gotten lucky enough to hit Adkote with a slug round in the chest right between the front and back armor plates. He had kept shooting, he had kept fighting. It was the most ferocious Paz had ever seen his cousin fight. Paz had flown them away as far as he could but...Adkote had to be okay. Adkote had magic, he had to make it. Paz’s best friend had to make it. How could he ever look at his family again if he failed to protect him. 

He didn’t remember when he stopped moving, when his knees had given out and he had slumped to the ground, clutching Adkote to him with whatever strength he had left, his eyes staring at the familiar dommed roof of home. So close...they were so close. 

“Mhi cuyir get yaim, liser gar haa'taylir bic?” (We're almost home, can you see it?) Paz was beyond exhausted, the weight on his shoulders shifting with every breath. He had rolled his ankle badly in a ditch a while back, but he had to make it. His breath coming out in broken pants, the lights of the village coming on as dawn approached. He’d run out of jetpack fuel a while ago. His grip was tenuous at best, but he couldn’t stop now. He’d get Adkote to Abi’r (Grandma) Ree, she could patch him up. He was gonna be okay. Paz tried to push past the exhaustion.

He refused to accept that he was the only one still panting for air. Paz was struggling to carry Adkote because he was tired, not because his hands were slick with blood. Tired, he was just tired. He looked to his cousin draped on his shoulders, weakly shaking Adkote. 

His head didn’t move. 

Adkote was as stiff as his armor. 

Paz broke down, his shoulders shaking as he finally set his cousin down. His voice coder distorting his anguished yells as he faced reality. 

The red streaks of Adkote’s blood were mixing with the red stripes of the Death Watch insignia painted on his armor. He hated red, never again...next time...blue. He’d paint his armor blue. Just like the lake they went fishing at, just like the sky above them at training camp...never red again. 

* * *

(Present Day)

Paz was taking a deep breath as he parked his ship, a few other Verd hopping out the back and making their way towards the war encampment, curious about the unfamiliar clan insignia billowing in the wind. Paz was fighting back memories. Last time he had been home it had been for Ree’s final march. He needed a focused head and a steady footing. Mowing down Imps would make him feel better. Give them every last shot he had in him. Stomping heavily he walked down the gangplank, rolling his shoulders as he heafted his weapon into place on his back, the magnetic lock telling him it was secured. The dust was kicked up around him as the rest of the group was already ahead. Paz’s group was a bit more somber than the younger verd showing up, their pain still fresh from Gideon’s assault a few months prior. But this was the way. Get up and keep Marching towards Manda. He’d give the damned Imps back every ounce of pain tenfold. 

He didn’t see the Vizsla banner anywhere, the Barabels working on their own weapons and armor as they bared their toothy grins at the Mandos. He saw the familiar glint of golden Armor, and the group gathered around his grandfather as they raised a new banner, a creature’s profile with the Vizsla stripes small above to denote this clan was in house Vizsla. 

“What's the animal?” Paz spoke loudly, his tone aggressive. 

“Mudhorn.” The Armorer spoke from his right. “The Alor’s clan signet.” Paz nodded looking her over and noticed a woman in green rebel armor was lingering about, seemingly waiting on something. “Did the foundlings try on the armors I sent?” 

“Most of it fits, but a few hit growth spurts so the arms and legs need to be resized.” He handed over the information she would need to make the adjustments. “Did he find the child’s people?” 

“He’s looking, but your cousin managed to drag him into the war.” She was already holding a large slip of requests from soldiers that wanted at least something before marching off. 

“How’d she do that? Promise to make him Alor?” Paz was not exactly thrilled with her last press conference. She didn’t need to make his dad out to be a monster, Pre Vizsla had been a good soldier. 

“No, he was hiding her. Your grandfather is the one that made him Alor.” Paz’s helmet snapped towards her, and she simply pointed to the banner again. “Him and the child’s first hunt as a clan.” His gaze followed as she pointed out his cousin on the other side of the huddle as Din spoke with some of the other clan heads who seemed to be making excuses about why they had no soldiers to offer up. 

Andora was speaking in hushed tones with Tokor and Zalle, Saba having happily taken Pirpak to go play during the war meeting. They didn’t move far, the little one not willing to move in a position where he couldn’t see her anymore. The feeling of someone staring at her caught her attention, her head snapping up to look around the crowd of warriors, noticing someone in blue heavy infantry armor seemingly focused on her. Her head tilted in confusion, Zalle calling back her attention as she spoke of her younger children back home in the nest. Zalle and Tokor’s tails brushing her ankles as they spoke with her. Andora was so excited to hear everything that had happened in their lives. She was trying to sit on her side to hide her damaged mark, looking over the gathered crowd. It hadn’t really sunk in for her that Din was the acting Mand’alor, he had seemed so unexcited about that role and she would have...she shook her head. She trusted his choices. It would be fine. They could do this. When he did call for attention to start planning the war strategy she gave him her full attention. She would give everything she had to beat the Empire. She’d done this before, she could do it again. 

* * *

It had been a long day, the planning, the organizing, the sheer meaningless drama of the petty squabbles over pride rights when all he wanted was to get the job done. Din was grateful when Andora and Pirpak wordlessly followed him back towards the Vizsla homestead. He wanted to eat, a bath, and hopefully convince Andora to change her self assigned task. He just got her back, he could not stand the idea of Pirpak’s heart breaking again when she...if she died. He would be happy to stop Gideon and throw off the title everyone seemed ready to backstab him over. He could see the smoke rising up, meaning Vim was already cooking. Saba was standing at the entrance, beaming with pride as she stood there with something wrapped in fabric held carefully in hand. 

“This one’s parents have agreed to let Saba be guard of little Soup. Saba is here to start duty. Have also brought the helmet from the ship.” She was bouncing with excitement as she thrust the old helmet forward to prove herself to outsiders. Andora bit her lip to not laugh, knowing that to the girl this was her chance to feel like a real adult. Zalle and Andora had been given similar tasks like this in the early days of the Barabel resistance, and back then it had seemed so vital. Din gave a stern nod, taking the helm and Andora reluctantly passing off Pirpak to his own personal guard. He gave a pout at being moved since he had been drifting off to sleep, but his ears perked up at seeing his new playmate. 

“Renitr?” (Toys) Pirpak posed his question, Saba shaking her head and walking into the home with him ahead of the adults. 

“No, first food, then games.” Pripak narrowed his eyes, but her lips moved to straighten her fangs and he gave up that tantrum. Din let Andora in first, seeing the hesitation in her movements. Eventually they came to the central room, Paz already kneeling on some pillows, his heavy guns off and his jet pack next to tanks for refueling. He kept his helmet on. So had Vim. 

The men were tensed, and almost as if ready to strike as Andora entered the room. Saba seemed unperturbed by the tension, taking a seat where a large chunk of meat was already sitting, having already started eating before getting up to greet the couple. She took a seat, Pirpak propped up on the pillows next to her as a much smaller chunk of well shredded meat and mashed greens sat on a plate for him, already cooled down by waiting. The children dug in as Vim started to toss on more food. Din sat himself down, Andora nearly trembling as she sat down beside him, her skin paper white as she looked at the man cooking. Vim plated for Din and Paz first, Din taking his plate to eat since there was nothing he could do for this particular fight. 

“Saba...you and him need to go to the room to eat and get ready for bed.” Saba finally seemed to be aware of the adults in the room, sheepishly picking up the plates and drinks as she used her tail as a leash to have Pirpak follow her down the hallway to what looked like a kids room. Din had enough time to get to the room he had been using, take off his gauntlets and helm, wash his face and hands and take a bite before the tension broke. He had expected shouts, he had expected screams, probably would have preferred it to the soft sobbing he heard instead. 

“Ra sirbur va cuyir yies ibac olya payt.” (He said we were all that was left.) Andora was ashamed of herself, tearing up as her grandfather pulled his helmet off. The older man was unsure what to do with her like this. He had been ready for the fight, not for the shocked way she reacted. “I spent so long in therapy trying to deal with the loss of...of everyone...I…” She was breathing too fast and too little at the same time, her tears coming before she could realize they had run down her face. “Is Ree here, what about-” 

“La taab'echaaj'la.” (She passed on.) Vim was keeping his voice calm. “When your dad was around it was the four of us, now it's just us three. Unless you count their half of the family and you know we don’t in this house.” He said, a humorless smile coming to his lips as she was hyperventilating but neither man moved to help her, they knew what terrible things she could unleash when upset. “Do you remember the last time you were here?” Andora was barely clinging to his words, her heart feeling like old wounds had just split open again. She had spent so long in therapy trying to put herself back together after the camp and the grief and to suddenly have to feel all that death again...it was agony. She numbly nodded her head as the awful day came back with clarity. 

“We came to collect Adkote’s body.” She was crying harder. “I said I hated Death Watch...I hated you...I hated everyone because…” 

“You blamed us for him getting killed.” Paz spat at her. “You blame my father for everything! You-!”

“Because if I had fought he wouldn’t have died! He could have lived his life! He was never a soldier and you knew it! I am the soldier! I am the fighter! I was the one ready to give everything for our cause! You pulled him into it because he was your best friend and he wanted to-” 

“Stop making Adkote’s death about you and your demands for recognition!” Paz did not back down from her, his bulking frame filling space as she seemed to be coiling up like a snake. “You aren’t special! You’re just a whiny brat that can’t accept that she’s never going to be more than a sideliner during a war! You didn’t have to carry him back here! You didn’t have to live with his death, you ran away! You deserter!” 

“Tah'da ja!” (Fuck you) Andora was livid, her eyes narrowed as her hands twitched. “Whose Verde are here? Mine! They are my family, my war sisters and brothers! They are here because I fought as a single soldier in their war! If I could do that for their war, I could have helped much more during ours!” 

“What does that have to do with your brother! See! This has always been about you!” Paz was feeling his temper flaring widely and was looking to Vim, expecting the veteran to take his side. “You couldn’t even hold in your selfishness long enough to lay him to rest! His death was just a showcase for you and your stupid magic!” Paz was tempted to take off his helm just to look her in the eyes, confront this selfish little brat pretending at being a true Vizsla. “I bet you’re plotting even now how you can take that title away from your ‘alor’ because you always need it to be about you. You can’t follow orders because that means putting someone else over yourself!” Paz pushed her, not afraid of her or her magic. 

“You’re wrong! You don’t know anything about me!” Andora wanted nothing more than to rip his helmet off and punch him, maybe smash him with that helmet a few times for good measure. “Go ask anyone that knows me, I would die for someone or something I believe in! I just never believed in your Father!” 

“Your brother was honored to give his life for the cause of protecting his family and his culture! Your brother died, and you shamed him by throwing a damned tantrum and running away!” Paz shook her with his heavy push but she planted herself firmly. 

“You didn’t feel Adkote when he was begging to live! You never had to feel parts of your soul being ripped to shreds as I held him together while he begged me to not let him die!” She pushed him back, his weighted frame not budging an inch. 

“I was the one holding him together! I was the one that was soaked in his blood after dragging him through a warzone!” Paz pushed his vizsor against her face. She needed to be knocked down. “You cost your father everything he ever loved! You killed his wife a-” Paz was in a rage, shouting and it was only his absolute control that kept him from hitting her, but she still crumpled to the ground as if struck. Her anger was replaced with misery. 

“GEV!” (Stop!) Vim roared, both of the adults giving him their attention. Down the hallway Saba and Pirpak nibbled awkwardly as they tried to tune out the fighting. It was harder for them as Andora’s suffering lashed out wildly. Vim saw his little granddaughter once more, a child crying as she tried to make up for a sin she never committed. Vim knelt next to Andora, and she clutched his armor, her tears turning silent as she hid from Paz’s gaze. Her and Paz was all he had left, and Vim was tired of this fighting. “This is out of line soldiers...We are a clan of three, we can’t afford to lose each other to this kind of infighting. I failed this clan, I see that in how...how we are now…” He looked up to Paz, trying to figure out what he could possibly say that would calm the heavy breathing of his grandson, still as angry as the day he refused to show his face ever again. “Enough is enough. We as a clan have paid our debt in blood for our sins, it's time to forgive and heal.” Vim wished he could have been better at this, at stopping all this madness. Tor started this, and he got left to clean up the bloodshed left behind from his brother. “Paz, you’re an amazing soldier, no one can impeach your record...and when I’m gone you have to lead this clan...you have to be better than me. Both of you.” 

“Gar cuyir ner ha'yr.” (You are my clan.) She looked over to Paz, bowing her head. “I shouldn’t have dragged out family drama onto the news...you loved him like your brother...I don’t want to fight with you...I miss having family.” She was tired of being the only Vizsla. 

“When the old man goes, there will be no more clan Vizsla.” Paz sneered, taking his plate and going to his old room, slamming the door with finality. 

“Ni liser va katcara ner saha.” (I can’t undo my sins.) Vim put his head on her own, holding her close. “But I would hope for at least one sad face when I march away.” Vim tried to tease, wiping her tears as she pulled herself together, nodding as she accepted his apology. Paz would surely come around when the fight was over, let him be angry now, rage was good for a front liner. Andora pulled herself together, feeling ashamed for losing her control like that and behaving like an emotional mess.

“I...Ba’buir...I am sorry, I shouldn’t have behaved like that.” Vim stood up, pulling the burnt steaks off the grill as he let her stand to her feet, the echoing emptiness from the shouting now just buzzing with leftover energy. 

“It’s my fault...I should have realized your father wouldn’t tell you the truth...he wanted to protect you from being used as a pawn by people like that besom (asshole) of an ex you have. I just thought you still hated me for working for the Empire as a hunter.” He gave himself the more burnt steak, but they both sat there, neither eating. 

“I...I understood why you did it...the family needed money. I don’t forgive you for it but...I understand. I had to swallow everything in me to work for them at the museum, I had to hold my tongue in the camps...it's not a clean cut good or bad.” She scraped the burnt skin on the steak, more to distract herself. “The child…”

“I know...he went out to the spot.” Vim sighed, taking a bite of the food, the sound of it being chewed audible. 

“We are looking for jedi to help us find his people…We were looking for a jedi master by the name of Rancisis befo-” She had been pushing the food around on her plate. 

“He’s in my trophy room, not in the case though.” Vim answered quickly, his dentures struggling to stay in against the strength of the meat. “He went real quiet like...he knew I was coming. Said he would rather me do it than Vader. I only killed who I got paid for, Vader would have slaughtered the whole lot of them.” 

“What?” She looked at Vim in confusion, why would the voice have told her to come looking for a dead man. “I don’t understand...The force told me…”

“It told you to find him...and well, congrats, he’s here at home.” Vim snorted with a bit of dark humor, giving up on the steak and dumping it into the fire as he picked up to go to bed. “Get some sleep...we’re off after breakfast at first light. Don’t let Paz get to you, Adkote loved both of you, get along for his sake.” Andora followed his example, throwing the food away since she couldn’t bring herself to eat. 

* * *

Chapter end. 


	22. Hyuta Ori'tsad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hyuta ori'tsad= Starlight brigade 
> 
> The title of this chapter is also the title of a song I highly recommend by TWRP. Dan Avidan is kinda the voice I assigned to Adkote, and drew inspiration for making his character have dreams of being a musician. 
> 
> Reviewer responses will be at end of chapter this time, warning, we going straight into romance, skip to first line break to avoid sex scene.

The bed was soft and the sheets cool from being empty all day. His armor and base layers off as he rubbed a salve onto his injuries. He could hear her in the room across from him, it seemed she was talking with the kids, and the soft singing made him fairly certain she was putting Pirpak to bed. Andora walked from the room and to the fresher. The sound of running water brought to mind the images of her body naked against his own. Taking his helmet off he ran his hand through his hair to rub salve on his scalp, still sore from the ambush. A knock came at the door, Din pulling his helmet on before calling out to her. Andora opened the door and stood there without looking at him, her face flushed with shame.

“You don’t have to explain.” He spoke as he watched her struggle to put her racing thoughts into words. Her awkward chuckle at him taking the lead in the conversation seemed like a good sign as she relaxed against the door jam. The room was only illuminated by some candles, soft flickering light reflecting off his helmet. The robe she was wearing looked a bit old but seemed fluffy enough to keep her warm.

“Want me to get your back?” She offered as he reached for the spot between his shoulder blades. His hand dropped away, and he relaxed at the sensation of her hands gently massaging the pain reliever onto his skin. When she had effectively covered his back she pulled her hands back, ready to leave the room to let him rest. Din reached his hand out to rest on her thigh, the tilt of his helm and the light touch made it clear he was concerned for her. 

“How bad is it?” His voice was as warm as it could be through the helmet. Andora slowly lifted the robe to show the damaged scarification. Where her sigil had been was now only the puckering pink and white bumpy lines that were like a faded outline of the sigil. His fingers gently traced the lines, trying to think of how he could fix this as a way to push the upcoming fight out of his mind. Over thinking a battle when no new ideas came was not doing him any good. “I’ll fix this.” He promised as he pressed his visor close to her face in a mock kiss. Her lips twitched up in a smile, hand dropping to his, and encouraging his hand to wander to more interactive places. He chuckled, his hand following her own under the robe. The soft candle light danced on their skin, her hand undoing the knot of her robe, sliding the fabric off as she leans in to kiss at the scars and marks on his own chest. He leans back against the headboard as his hands urge her to follow him, their bodies pressed together. Din drags his hand slowly up the length of her spine, relishing the soft little breaths as her body pressed closer. Her freshly washed skin felt like a relief as his own skin grew hotter, her tongue drawing lazy designs along the column of his throat. Her legs straddling his hips, pressing her slit against his heated skin. He shivered as her teeth dragged against his skin, rocking up into her warmth. 

He dragged his hands up her sides to cup her breasts, enjoying the little moan he earned as he gently pinched and tugged her nipples, her hot breath on his skin as he could feel her nipples stiffen at his attention. She was here, she was alive, and she wanted him, the war could spare this moment. He tugged playfully on her breasts, watching the soft flesh jiggle with the attention and her hips pressed closer, her pussy lips moist and so tantalizingly warm. 

“Din…” The whispered need in her voice pulled his own groan from him, his hands taking a more firm hold of her breasts, massaging them at his own leisurely pace. “I want to stay with you…” She gripped him tighter for more leverage as she rocked against him, his hips rocking up to meet her. “I want you so much…” She pressed a kiss to his jaw, him feeling her fingers move between her legs, brushing his cock as she teased her own folds, finding her clit and giving it some attention. He bit his lip as he could feel her juices dripping onto his skin. “Din...ner alor.” (my leader) She purred against his throat, nibbling at the skin just along his collar bone. His hand followed her own, rubbing her folds as her finger gave her clit more attention, spreading her juices on the soft flesh. Gently he inserted his finger, watching her face as she blushed and curled into him, her walls gripping his finger tight. He pumped his finger into her, helping her muscles relax enough for him to slowly push a second finger in to join. The stretch was a welcome ache in her core, her juices slicking his fingers as her walls pressed against him. Her nails bit into his skin as she muffled her noises into his shoulder. As he slid a third finger into her, he groaned as she bit his skin a bit harder, feeling her push down and rock eagerly as she chased an orgasm. Her teeth and lips marking his skin as her hand gripped his side for leverage to ride his fingers as she teased her clit, the stimulation getting to that wonderfully painful place where she was so close to coming undone but she couldn’t focus enough to finish. Din pulled his fingers from her, her panting breaths on his overheated skin as she pulled away to look into his visor with a pout. He caressed her hip with his other hand. 

“Lay down for me.” His voice was husky, and she could feel him throbbing against her thighs. Moving to lay on her back as he followed after her, his hips still nestled between her spread thighs, one leg of hers tossed over his hip as he straddled the other thigh, pressing his aching cock to her wet folds. His wet fingers returned to line himself up with her entrance. “Uctu Ni guroa ti gar ner katagine?” (May I forge with you my sweet.) His hand squeezed the thigh he had tossed over his hip as he straddled her other leg. Din watched her heated skin flush at the tender endearment he gave her, a breathy yes escaping her as her hand moved to stroke his cock, urging him into her aching center. She grabbed the pillow, burying her face to stifle her sounds as his girth stretched her, his fingers circling her clit, easily sending her towards her peak again, feeling her warm wet walls bare down on him. He pushed in till he was seated as deep as he could go, watching those pink lips swallowing him as his name was moaned into the makeshift gag. 

He rubbed her clit slowly at first, holding himself still in her, soaking in her tightness and the way he could feel her clench around him before relaxing as the pleasure. Calloused fingers teasing her clit kept her on the edge. Her tattoo stood out beautifully against her skin just above where her pussy was so full of him he swore she couldn’t take more. Yet as she trembled with her building orgasm he could feel just a tiny bit more of her give, welcoming him deeper. His own breathing was shaky and uneven, his skin felt too hot, especially where they were joined, but he wanted to melt into her heat, give her everything he had. The pleasure was getting to his head, looking at her body arching up delight as he moved his hips, her clit a stiff little pearl under his touch.

With time and effort, he could learn to pleasure her with the same determination and skill he flew his ship, and she would be a most wonderful partner as she spent her time learning how to handle him as well as she cared for armor. 

Andora was trying to keep quiet, not wanting to wake the others, but it was so hard as his length plunged into her, stretching her in that wonderful way, almost too much but she wanted more, she wanted him deeper, closer. She bites into the pillow as she looks between their bodies, watching him pump in and out of her as his fingers teased her aching clit. Her hips rocked up, needing more heat and friction even as her body felt like it was too warm, his own heat a blissful relief inside her as he pumped harder. With the rapid pace of his fingers on her clit she couldn’t resist any more the wonderful agony of release, every muscle tensed as her nerves fired wildly with pleasure, the thrilling view of his visor locked on her even as she came undone. Her juices gushed onto his cock, his hands gripping her leg as he chased his own release now. He could feel her tight walls fluttering around him as she started to relax, her hips shaking and jittery as he started to give her the full force of his need. 

Andora’s insides were relaxing, still hot from her release, and he could feel himself hitting the end of her pussy. His grip pushed her leg up towards her chest to give him deeper access to her, one hand on her thigh to hold her in place as the other pressed to her stomach and over her tattoo as he basked in the pleasure. 

“Cuyir netkata tsikador?” (Is the mold ready?) He teased her, wanting nothing more than to release inside her and if this fight was his last, maybe he would have two children left behind him to carry on the way. She moaned loudly into the pillow, nodding eagerly as her hips renewed their frantic search for his heat. Andora felt his hips pounding into her wildly, his cock filling her deeply, her muscles tensing as another orgasm built. She could feel him twitching and throbbing inside of her as her walls clamped down again, his fingers digging into her thigh as he bucked with his full strength into her, his tip pressed against her cervix with each stroke. She was teary eyed as she felt her second orgasm tear through her before his seed flooded her, a glorious wave of his heat as he gave her everything he had. 

His breathing was short gasping pants as he steadied himself, relaxing his grip and murring praises to her that she hummed along to, her mind still off in the stars as he pulled from her sore slit with reluctance. Watching her entrance stretched out from his cock made him feel a possessive thrill, seeing the start of his seed dripping out with her still flowing juices from her own release. He leaned down and pressed his visor to her sternum, mumbling something to her but she couldn’t hear him. He slowly lowered himself to lay down with her, seeing her shiver and pulling the sheets around their bodies. He should get up and grab a washcloth for her but his own legs wouldn’t obey him. She curled eagerly into his arms, the sweat on her skin cooling her down quickly, his heat, and the protective cover of the blankets too appealing to deny. 

Andora could hear him speaking softly to her, and she tried, she really did, but the warmth, the satisfaction, the overwhelming amount of emotions she had felt in the short span of a few days was enough. Her mind lost to sleep as she nuzzled into his chest, murring about how he made her feel in love.

* * *

There was a knock at the room door, Andora groaning as she pulled away, wrapping herself in the robe again as she went to answer it. “Wash up and get dressed, I have the kids up already eating, waiting on you two.” Vim said in a whispered order, Andora mumbling a yes groggily back. As she turned back Din was already up from the bed, watching her through his visor. 

“Din...Mand’alor...I won’t fail my mission.” Din shook his head, coming to her as he gripped her hand. 

“Andora we are equals, remember?” He was fairly certain she hadn’t heard his words last night, and now in the pre-dawn light with the battle looming he did not need to cloud her mind more than it already was. “We all need to succeed or else the entire sector will lose their children. It's not about me or you, it's about them.” 

“May the Ka’ra be with us.” (*stars) She kissed his chest over where his iron heart would be displayed. He pressed his forehead to hers, his hand resting on the same space of her own chest. 

“If I fall...the kid needs you to finish my mission.” Andora felt her chest squeeze uncomfortably, not okay with those words even leaving his lips. 

“If I die, he has to be named Soup in my honor.” She was trying to break the heaviness between them.

“Then for his sake I hope you live as long as your grandfather.” Din was smiling under his visor, tying her robe for her. 

“I have to go shower...again.” She sighed, feeling reluctant but she did have to go, it was going to be critical to have everything set up and she still needed to contact Kejena. 

“We didn’t break anything this time.” He pointed out, trying to keep the conversation positive. She started giggling at that, rolling her eyes as she slipped out of the room while Din went to wash himself off to get ready for today. He washed himself with some cold water before pulling on each layer, on helping put his mind right with the plan. Fully armored again he walked into the main room, Pirpak fussing with his food since it was early, and Saba seemed a bit dazed as she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. The sweet smell of fruit, bread with butter, and cheese set out for the kids. Vim was polishing up a set of armor, the old crusader set looking as good as old armor could, the spiked pauldrons looked sharpened and a high gloss being applied to the cuirass. Next to Vim was a set of what at first looked like playing cards, but as Din glanced again he realised it was actually a set of pin up cards, all with the same woman on them. Vim flipped them over to their backs, and the backs were full of writing. 

“Who is the woman on your cards?” He took a seat next to the older man, Paz coming out and taking his jet pack outside to refuel, not wanting the fumes inside the home. Vim offered Din some of the armor polish. 

“Ah, my riduur Ree. We got hitched right out of the training camps. We made pin up cards for each other before going on a tour of duty. She has the matching set of me in all my finest with her on that long march to Manda.” Vim was smiling as he seemed to be rereading the love letters on the back of the cards. “Added one card for every tour. Her’s always looked nicer, my writing is all chicken scratch cause of my gauntlets, work great but tend to break bones even when used right.” 

“Why would bones break?” Din asked, seeing the gauntlets were a bit heavier than normal and decorated with spikes to match the rest of the set it seemed. 

“Ah, catching and deactivating lightswords is dangerous. Cortosis is effective, but you still gotta come in contact with the damn things to deactivate it. The force of the strikes is intense, but the look on their face when you grab their sword.” Vim brought his fingers to his lips and made a kiss motion. Din chuckled at that, Saba’s attention on them now. 

“You fight Jedi?” She seemed unsure about asking her question, her eyes taking in his armor now that she was more awake. “But Jedi are good, why hunt them?” Saba was curling into herself, her mother had told her that these fighters had a history of fighting Jedi...but this man in front of her was a skilled hunter of people like her. Saba was not used to feeling like prey.

“It's part of our history. Mandalorians hunt force users. Good fights if you find strong enough ones. Dark force users are more fun to hunt, they pull out some crazy tactics and tricks.” Vim took another bite, chewing through his next statement. He noticed the young Barabel looking nervously now at the pair of men in their armor. “Don’t worry, I’m sour on the whole thing. Had to adjust my attitude after my son married Andora’s mother.” He pointed to the picture hung on the wall that Din recognized from her datapad. “The sweetest woman I met besides my Ree, and sure, took more than a few shots at her when she first came from the temple, but then my son and her got hitched... took me hours to dismantle the bomb I had rigged up under her ship.” He laughed as if it was some joke, Din was staring at Vim through his visor. He had left his son with this man.

“I have hunted more Jedi than I would like. Jedi were awful to hunt, pacifists most of them. And after the Empire drove them underground, broken spirits. But big paydays when I did bag them. Helped me keep the clan funded and armed.” Vim took a bite from his buttered bread, not really noticing the tense atmosphere. A cold shiver went down Din’s spine, recalling just how angry Paz had been when he came back with the kamtomo full of beskar with Imperial brands. Din’s mind rolls back all the words about full pockets and empty beds. 

“You have some weapons Saba?” Vim asked the girl with a smile, drizzling some honey on the bread. Saba shook her head no. The old man thought about it for a moment, sizing her up. Andora was walking out of the hallway, wearing the base layers for an armor set, Din finding himself admiring the view. “I have plenty you might like. Andora still needs to pick some things too.” Vim stood up, completing his armor as he put his helmet on, walking back towards his trophy room. Saba nervously looks to Andora. Pirpak up following Vim, his babbling coos filling the space as he waddles after the old man. 

“Don’t worry Saba, you’re family. Come pick something.” Andora didn’t notice the wide awed smile her words caused as she dipped down to grab some food as well. Andora helps the teen up, leading the way. Saba straightened her shoulders as she followed into the back room. Din used the privacy to eat and drink quickly.

Vim pulled the fabric down from the trophy case, a groan escaping as he kneeled down to check for something. This armor set was heavier than his neo-crusader armor, and it bunched up something terrible around his crotch. But it damn it, if he was going to die he was going to do it in his best looking armor.

“Ah, here we go, should still work, don’t point the ends at any parts you are fond of.” Vim tossed the cylinder towards the girls, Saba catching it. Andora drifted over to the swords mounted on the walls, hands drifting over a couple of them before she settled on an energy shield. Saba looked down, so many conflicting emotions as she knew very well from the pulsing ping of the force that this was a lightsaber. Her master said she wasn’t ready, if she used it it would be like disobeying him. When she just stared at the cylinder Vim came up to her. Taking the weapon and pointing out the ignition switch as he aims it away from their bodies and faces. “Go ahead and turn it on.” 

“But...Master said…” Vim pressed her thumb down on the ignition, the saber humming to life and giving off a vibrant pinkish glow. 

“Keep it, I’m never gonna use it. Don’t match anything else I got in the collection either. May as well let you get some mileage out of it before that power cell burns out.” Vim let go of the ignition, the blade quiet once more, Saba couldn’t stop the curl of her fingers around the handle. The handle was a simple design, heavily weighted with rich gold and black components, but given just a bit of personality by the pink lines running in the seams, hinting at the crystal she could feel inside. This crystal had been sleeping with it’s original marker gone.

“Who was this…” It was more directed to the crystal than to the other occupants of the room. The crystal inside seemed to pulse out, the crystal encouraging her to take it. Saba’s smile widened, feeling so excited and filled with hope that this is what Master Skywalker meant about the next time they met she would be ready. The baby was tugging on Saba’s robes, trying to get a better look at the object in her hand, all the adults touching things too far up for him to reach. 

“Oh, that was from a hunt I did on Corellia...the young woman who owned it put up a big fight. I was gonna just take the blade and let her go but...Vader finished her off. Poor thing, Eelysa I think her name was, would have to check my records to be sure.” Vim walked over to Andora, helping her find the extra power cells for the shield she was going to be taking. As she was strapping the cells into her gear securely Vim strapped another cylinder to Andora’s belt. She looked at it, a bit confused since the hilt design was more rectangular with a circular guard before the opening for the blade. “Your mothers…the hilt should be enough to fool the cameras, but it's a bright blue so...only turn it on to save yourself.” 

“I understand.” Andora felt the weapon at her side, her fingers running along the hilt. “Dad said she lost it, he lied about a lot didn’t he?” 

“That’s not technically a lie. She did lose it when she threw it at your Dad’s head. She said she caught him peeping on her while she was changing. He swore up and down he had been watching her house in case she was smuggling in more Jedi. So next morning she came up to our door and demanded to talk to Ree about it. We checked the security footage from his gear and while he was technically looking through her window, you could hear his snoring coming in loud and clear. Ree erased the footage, your mom said she was sorry for accusing him, and I had to beat his shebs for falling asleep on duty. I...confiscated the weapon though and just figured she was happier without it. Worked out alright though, you’re here.” 

* * *

Din walked out to join Paz, the other soldier passing the fuel silently, the pair working through their battle preparations. Din looked up at the clear blue sky, feeling a sense of dread that somewhere up there was Gideon’s ship. Din finished refueling and Paz silently picked up the fuel to put it back. He shouldn’t put himself in the issues with the clan. Following Paz, Din caught his arm before the man disappeared into the house.

“Vod...Ni letna gar a entye par ner ad'ika b jibr.” (Brother, I owe you a debt for my son’s life.) With the amount of armor on it was easy to see Paz’s shoulder drop. 

“Then to pay it, stay out of this.” Paz bit out, wanting to vent his anger, but knowing better than to do it to the Alor. 

“It just seems wrong for House Vizsla to no longer have a Clan Vizsla. You forgave me for my failures, forgive the old verd his.” Din knows he is pressing his position to keep Paz listening to his words. 

“She can take it for herself just like she always wanted.” Paz huffed. 

“Paz, vod...I’ve been with her and she isn’t perfect, yes, she easily gets an inflated ego, but she also pushes herself beyond what anyone should. She was captured defending me, she put my honor before her safety. She’s not a heartbroken twelve year old anymore, you have to give her a chance.” Din let Paz go, walking inside ahead of the man as Andora is recording her message, seeing if she could get more help in selling this distraction. His heart clenched a bit at the idea of losing her, wanting to trust she would make it back. Saba had Pirpak in his bag, his toys being left behind in his pram. The girl was smiling widely, Pirpak trying to grab the object on her belt. Vim picked up the Pin-up cards and put them in a small fabric pouch, securing them under his cuirass towards his Iron heart. 

They moved out, Andora carrying out the family war banner as they walked towards the line of ships. Saba ran over to her parents, the cluster of Barabels hissing a prayer to meet the others on the good side of the hunt. Vim pulled Din aside as Andora collected the War banners from every tribe, clan, and house. Andora was loading the banners up into Vim’s ship, him going to take her to help set up the distraction point. Din should have slipped away from him, but the old man seemed troubled with the downward cast of his visor.

“Did she say yes?” Vim was looking over his shoulder, making sure she was busy. Paz loaded up one of the creatures onto his ship as Barabel’s picked up weapons and joined him, waiting for the signal to take flight. 

“She said she wants to stay with me.” Din was watching her, seeing her arms wrapped tightly around the Barabels who walked Saba over, Pirpak now in his cradle as the two children loaded up onto Vim’s ship. 

“Since Paz has disinherited himself from the clan, take the house for her children.” Vim clapped Din on his shoulder with a hearty laugh. “Do you know what it takes to be a great leader?” He pointed towards the troops and the ships being loaded up. “Knowing how to delegate and secure a chain of command should the leader fall in battle. That was Mereel’s biggest failure, when he died, his troops crumbled like a house of cards.” He handed Din a set of gauntlets, Din seeing these were a similar set to the ones Vim wore. “Sometimes Verde make bad choices, it's the Alor’s job to correct those mistakes, sometimes you can even use them to your advantage. I know you can do this, but be ready for things to go sideways. They always do in war.” With those words Vim walked off towards his ship, taking off and darting into hyperspace as soon as possible towards Mandalore.

* * *

Vim’s spys on Mandalore were helping set up the transmission slave codes for the broadcast. They had to make sure they got the transmission before Gideon could block them out, but if they timed it too early the New Republic wouldn’t have enough proof to send their ships to the distress call. One of their members had found an Aide that was trying to expose the selfishness of Ordot, using the Aide’s desire to do right for their own purposes. The declaration ceremony was going to happen tomorrow, but he would never make it through that first sentence. 

They had Death Trooper armor smuggled in under the museum delivery of Mereel’s armor. Taking the Death Trooper armor while Ordot was in an absolute paranoid state that Andora had sent the Alor’s armor but had not shown herself, lashing out at aides, and demanding to know who delivered the set which was absolutely stealing his thunder as the news was reporting the recovery of the armor as the return of the Mand’alor. The news was commending Ms Vizsla for recovering the missing armor, speculating that her disappearance was part of the plan to recover it. He still hadn’t heard a word from his nephews, and Gideon was silent now too. Part of him said to call the whole thing off but his pride and fear won out. Surely if he continued on, this would all seem like a silly bout of nerves. Surely the armor was Gideon’s way of signalling his possession of the Vizsla girl. Years of planning could not go to waste. Braig had even put up with marrying the crazy girl to try and spy on her father. He would get this. He plotted it out so carefully. Gideon would keep the people under control, and he would rule Mandalore space. Bring it back to glory as the next capital planet when the Empire re-established control of the galaxy. 

* * *

Kejena slumped in her chair, the holomessage Andora sent her paused as she tried to think through what he friend was asking. Saro had left after the third playthrough of the message. Her children were on Concord Dawn...barely a blink away from what was going to happen on Mandalore. The plan her friend proposed was a suicide mission. Some people were still injured from the ion grenade, but the Imperials arrested on their ship was proof that this was not a joke. Saro came back into the room with others, her seeing their resolute faces and knowing what the crew’s choice had been. She punched in the coordinates Andora had sent her, feeling the tears in the corners of her eye as they lifted up and off for their most important show. 

They were packed up and in hyperspace in less than two hours. They silently went about their work of pulling costumes together and getting instruments tuned up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviewer responses:
> 
> Anne: Yeah, he was outta line, but to be fair, she does talk trash on his dad to the news so...pain begets pain. Paz has been hiding behind his mask, so he hasn't dealt with the loss really. (my version of him at least)
> 
> AHumanFemale: Wow, thank you for the reviews on multiple chapters! It definitely took me lots of research finding stuff to work, borrowing cool ideas from the legends cannon to help work at the scale I set up. It's really wonderful to see that you noticed that work, and even better that you enjoy it. Unfortunately this chapter probably hasn't eased that stressed out feeling, but we will hit our relief point soon.


	23. The Shadow Warriors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dha Werda Verda- is a poem and also a title to a mandalorian war chant. When you see 'song*' in the chapter, this is the song they are performing, there are lots of great versions of it to listen to. This was also the poem mentioned earlier in the story. This chapter is more how the galaxy sees the events, next chapter will be from the mandalorians point of view.
> 
> The duchess, weapons shown in rebels, it cooks mandos in their armor, disintegrating them. 
> 
> Review Response: 
> 
> Ahumanfemale: Hold on to the last chapter, we are gonna need a light where we are going.

Dr. Brezen Syille groaned as she was adjusted into a sitting position by the medical droid, the droid needing to check and clean her injury. How she survived the blaster shot, she didn’t know, but she was grateful to every benevolent ‘god’ she knew of that she had. The New Republic had thankfully had a ship nearby, and they had evacuated the team as a precaution. She would come back later to finish her work, but right now everyone needed to have a chance away from the event. The General had come through multiple times to check on the injured, taking statements to go along with the evidence collected. Brezen was worried about Andora and her armored escort, those men had been chasing them. Since waking up onboard the ship she had checked news reports, her distress growing at the news of the events on Mandalore continued. Something was wrong. No way would Andora have just shipped the armor, the young woman would have been beyond delighted to parade the armor and make it the crowning piece in the project she had been so secretive about over the last six years. She was watching the news broadcast, some in the room seeming bored while others slept on. Senator Ordot was up to something, the large event he was having did not seem in tone with the economic and environmental state of the planet. 

Up on the command deck the general and others were also watching, her brother had given her a heads up that something was terribly wrong on Mandalore. He had warned her that his student and her tribes were inserting themselves into something on the planet. Her hands clenched into a fist as the tension grew. The last time she had felt this uneasy… no. There would be no more Alderans. Never again. 

On the display screen the balcony overlooking the square filled with children and their parents was decorated with expensive imported flowers, huge holocron displays showcasing the Pacifist party symbol. There were a few performances and acts as they awaited the Senators speech. This was being broadcast live all over the holonet. After a long lead up Senator Ordot walked out in opulently decorated robes, and wearing objects that gave the impression of armor. He walked out with an imperial air about him as he took his place in front of the microphones. 

“To all Mandalorians. We have suffered many hardships since the death of Mand’alor Mereel, whose armor was returned to us. To help us stand together and weather the storm of political instability I de-” A flash of red light erupts from the back of his head. There was a massive uproar of screams as Senator Ordot’s body tumbles forward off the balcony. More blaster shots fill the screen as the security forces retaliate. Death troopers marched out from where Ordot had emerged, the holobanners being changed to the Imperial Crest. Suddenly a flurry of incoming transmission was flooding the communications center. 

The broadcast flickered with the telltale sign of pirated broadcasts. The screen filled with the image of a fully armored soldier. The imposing warrior was in a deep red colored armor, the light glistening off the armored spikes. Behind him stood a massive army of mandalorians, war banners billowing in the breeze. The warrior raised a fist to the sky, the weapon in hand a familiar shape to the Mandalorians. It looked like the darksaber’s handle. The armored soldiers behind began to play a song* that filled the empty space around them. “Par Rimaragr! Par Manda'yaim! Mhi akaanir gupu sto!” (For Freedom! For Mandalore! We fight once more!) The sounds of war drums drowns out the static hum, the war chant strong and vibrant being broadcast out. The soldiers chant, pounding their chests and standing firmly in formation. The Alor up front firing a blaster shot upwards. The camera panned upwards towards the sky, the silhouette of the Imperial Capital ship looming overhead. The Imperial ship sent out a weapons blast of what seemed to be a massive plasma blast that crackled into lightning, the massive army of Mandalorians being wiped out from view before the transmission cut. 

General Organa felt the pit of her stomach drop. The room a cacophony of sound, a roaring buzz of activity as multiple high level transmissions were being fielded. 

* * *

The crews of the ships the Barabel’s took were crowded behind Master Skywalker as the news broadcast came in. Barabel’s also crowded around, waiting expectantly for the translators in their groups to bridge the gap between Basic and their native tongue. Three thousand warriors abroad, and the millions of Barabels at home all waiting eagerly for news of an off world victory. If their little jedi could do this, the planet would have a great amount of war glory. They could even gain their own ships. They would finally be recognized for the great warriors they were for driving off the Empire alone. If done today, twice. They all hissed and cheered, excited at seeing their war banners among the ones on the cliff tops. 

There were shouts as the transmission cut, them demanding it being put back on, not understanding the broadcast had been stopped, not the screen. Standing up he called over his droid, the pair working to try and find any transmissions they could that were still rolling in the Mandalore Sector. He had to trust his pupil would be alright, that the force would guide her. If things looked to be turning for the worse...he would have to brave the weather to get into hyperspace and help. 

* * *

The space station was on lockdown, the active Imperial attack in the nearby sector meant that all available hyperspace lanes needed to be cleared in case the Republic’s navy came through. An elderly monk had stopped his rounds, gazing out the viewport in the direction of Mandalorian space. He sat down, uncaring about the chill to his body from the floor, or the dirt on his robes from countless footsteps. He held his staff firmly in hand as he began his chanting to slip into his meditation. The kyber crystals in his bag humming slightly in response. He could not do much, but he understood now that the call for help by the little child was more than just an infant's tantrum. He was one with the force, and the force was with him. The child was one with the force, and the force with him, and may the force protect them. May the force protect them all from falling into darkness. 

* * *

“What should we do?” Cal whispered to Cere as she walked away from the news screen.

“Nothing.” Cere tossed back at him, easily navigating her way through the crowds. “Why should we care about what happens to the Mandalorians. They have wanted our kind dead since the Jedi existed.” 

“What about the man with the baby? He didn’t want us dead.” Cal pointed out, stepping ahead of Cere to try and get her to see reason. 

“Fine, one out all of them didn’t want us dead, still not enough to tip the scales in favor of helping them.” She easily slipped past him, but he seemed to be ushering her out towards the space port despite her redirects. 

“To dedicate my life to the cause of freedom, and justice. If I should fail this vow, my life shall be forfeit.” Cal pleaded with her, even if they didn’t get there in time, they should show up, they should try. What good was being a Jedi if they would stand back and let the Empire do this. Cere wanted to stay angry and tell him no, but he was right, they swore to uphold the Jedi Oath. The Mandalorians were fighting for their freedom, as Jedi owed that to even their enemy. 

“Fine, but if you even so much as smirk…” She warned him, marching towards their ship. It took everything in Cal not to smirk.

* * *

Greef could feel his knuckles ache from how hard he was clenching his drink. That man in armor wasn’t Mando but...had Mando been one of the others? He recognized his mudhorn among the banners, but maybe… Greef drained his cup. The news stations were scrambling to put up replacement programming, no doubt the Senate was in an absolute uproar over the broadcast. 

Greef couldn’t help but feel a bit of satisfaction. The outer Rim had been left to fend for itself after the Empire fell, territories left under Imperial control simply because it was politically convenient. This ought to teach those politicians, appeasement had let this threat grow, now even the core worlds could see how bad it was out here. Mando would he alright, he could do this. If their small group had handled Gideon, surely an Army of Mandalorians could make it through okay. 

He couldn’t wait for the core worlds to make things better. When Cara got back, they’d get to work on it. No more Imperials, and certainly not their credits. Navarro would not be a place for them to hide anymore.

* * *

The troopers were scrambling to recharge the Duchess, their first shot sent to the cliffside at Death Watch. The weapon needed time to recharge before they could fire it on the city. Gideon was staring at the screen, waiting for the smoke to clear and get a better visual on what remained of the Mandalorians. He did have to commend them. Using the stolen trooper armor to fly this ‘false’ flag and expose his ship. Thrawn would have been impressed by the theatrics of it all. But now his plans would have to change. It wouldn’t be long now, maybe a half day at most before the New Republic ships arrived. He would only get a few children, the city no doubt on a complete lockdown. No, his goals now were simply on breaking their fighting spirit. Wipe out their warriors, and their capital city along with them. As the smoke cleared Gideon couldn’t contain his harsh dismissive laugh. It wouldn’t even be worth the fuel to crush them, but they owed him, and he was taking everything he was owed.

“Prepare to launch troops to wipe out the nuisance.” 

* * *

"When the dawn came the Zhell awakened and saw the Taungs upon the high place and were afraid, for the morning light caught the glint of helms and weapons and created phantom warriors, made of dazzle and distance. But the cleverest of them were not deceived, and saw how few we were. And so they assembled without haste, merry in mockery, and prepared to march. And in the high place we awaited death."

―Translated excerpt from the ninth chapter of the Dha Werda Verda epic


	24. The March

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "If we are to reclaim our honor, clans such as my own must decide where their loyalties lie. When Vizslas see their own sigil adorning the armor of those fighting for the ancient warrior ways, perhaps they will remember their own lost honor."  
> ―Tor Vizsla
> 
> Ka'ra- Literal meaning is stars but in ancient Mandalorian myth stands for the ruling council of fallen Mand'alors. 
> 
> Reviewer Response:
> 
> Ahumanfemale: I am truly sorry, I swear, the stress will start easing soon. 
> 
> Anne: I am actually shocked at myself, this is the fastest I have come out with chapters in a very long time. Perspective switches are really fun for me to write, because I get to explore the situation from different angles and leave things open for readers to try and piece together. I wish I could respond more to your comment but...well...keep reading.
> 
> This is maybe the most musical chapter, there are songs recommend at the start of the perspective switches to help understand states of mind. Not mandatory, but is just extra for you all if you are curious.
> 
> Warning, the Paz section will be very violent, if you want skip down to Andora if the violence is to much.

Inside the city the group of spies walked into the Senators building, the Aide thinking this was going to be a simple arrest. Once inside the secured building they follow the unsuspecting man upstairs, paying no attention to the meaningless set dressing. The man had never once supported the warriors and he dared decorate his home with the riches of their past accomplishments. Their cloaks hiding the armor and weapons. Ordot was wearing rich red robes, gold and silver threads weaved in to create a glimmering sheen, metallic adornments alluding to the armor he had been too cowardly to ever wear himself. Their families had been the ones to live and die for their people, no way would they ever let this Dar’manda steal it from them. For Kahl, for family, for Resol'nare. He quickly shakes their hands, mistaking them for delegates of the other planets in the Mandalore Sector. Let him think what he wanted. Before the Aide could correct him, the woman squeezed his hand, shaking her head in a warning way. Ordot even had the vanity to paint the Kyr’bes onto his forehead. As Ordot walked out, the group quickly used tasers to put down the security forces and the Aides. They broke the security system, locking each floor below them. Their red cloaks strewn on the white stone floors like the puddles of blood on sand Gideon had gifted them on Concord Dawn. The black armor and helmets firmly in place, blasters at the ready they marched out into broad synthetic daylight. 

Death was here to claim the False Mand’alor, for it was always watching. 

“To all Mandalorians. We have suffered many hardships since the death of Mand’alor Mereel, whose armor was returned to us. To help us stand together and weather the storm of political instability I de-” Ordot felt the agonizing blast to the back of his head, his body pushed forward by the bolt. The balcony pushed against his stomach painfully, but the icy hand of death seemed to be greedily pulling him forward. He faintly heard the screams. The sound of the air whipping past his ears a deafening roar of angry voices. The visors of warriors long past the only thing he could see as he plummets past the carved reliefs, all knowing his failures, his sins. He shut his eyes, the burning sting of the plasma bolt the last thing he felt beyond the weight of failure that yanked him down faster. 

His body hit the pavement with a resounding thud and crack as his skull broke open, bones snapping and shattering from the impact, his blood flooding out on the pavement. 

The spies triggered the override of the holobanners, loathing the Imperial crest in their city once more, but knowing this is only temporary. They bunkered down on the balcony, balancing out the need to fight and not kill innocent civilians. The broadcast was taken over, displaying the scene at the cliffs, even the security forces and the ‘troopers’ pausing to watch in horror as the Duchess was unleashed. That was looming over the city, it was going to destroy them. The Spies took this as their chance to flee the cameras, darting back inside the building and barricading the entrances. They knew they couldn’t be taken alive. If anyone knew this had been a farce, it would ruin their chance to make a real change in the world. Breaking open the air vents they shimmed their way inside, hearing the sounds of the doors being blasted open and the security forces finding the unconscious office staff. 

* * *

(Recommended song for Vim’s state of mind: Black Swan by TWRP) 

Their ship reached the cliffs overlooking the capital city, the same cliffs where she had first had her visions of the death and destruction that spurred her to flee. Silently Vim and Andora began to raise the war banners, the poles being used all tipped with small caps of beskar. Saba and Pirpak were setting up the disks for the projections. The full color projector disks were already loaded with the images needed for the distraction. These disks had been part of the displays she had been constructing in the cave of ancestors, meant to help show the armors in their prime without disturbing the remains. It took hours for them to lay out each and every one of the disks. This should help make it look like a force of thousands were here, her calibrating the disks to show groups of armors instead of individual ones. Someone came to meet them from the city, Andora recognizing them as one of her Dad’s friends. It hurt to know her dad had lied to her about Death Watch and his involvement with it, but she understood, he couldn’t risk her saying things in therapy. The older man was setting up the transmission relay on their end, pulling out the camera and setting it up. 

“Kejena said the orchestra is coming to perform. They should be showing up within the hour. Is there anything else we can do before Ordot goes on to steal my thunder.” She laughed as she walked over to Vim and his man, Saba and Pirpak following after her, his floating pram encased in a shielding to protect him from the lack of breathable air, Saba wearing a life support mask like Andora was. Mandalorian armor already had a vacuum survival rating, so both older men were fine without any extra equipment. Her grandfather hummed in response. 

Vim looked over the sea of fallen Mand’alors and honored heroes from their past. He knew so many of the armors from the stories his own grandparents had told him, feeling his eyes get a little watery as he recognizes the sets scattered around as his fallen sons, even Pre Vizsla. He nearly broke when Ree’s armor came into view, Everyone, even Tor was here. Andora had turned her back, and was getting ready to don the false armor. The stuff wasn’t made from Beskar so it couldn’t conduct the destructive force of the Duchess, but the minute the Empire opened fire that stuff would crumble like paper. He walked over, not really listening to her rambling sentences, or the children rushing around with their own nervous energy. The baby was fussy and upset while the teen seemed to be constantly readjusting the boney armor to the point of clanking every few moments. It was a mistake of youth and affection that she was being allowed to do this. 

Vim asked her to show him where the Ka’ra* were. Said he would feel better if she and the kids said a quick thank you to them for the luck they wished to see in battle. Andora hesitated but the children seemed so excited, Vim played into her ego and said he wanted to see the truth of her skill for himself. Saba was easily able to scale the cliff face down as Vim flew with Andora, Pirpak’s pram obediently following her. Vim watched the teen, hearing her claws digging into the stone as she scampered as if this was as simple as skipping on a flat playground. Andora was cheering the teen on, Pirpak clapping and gurgling at the display. 

Along the cliff face was a crack that at first glance seemed to be a simple alcove, but as he walked in after them, he saw how vast this cavern was. Vim was never a religious or even a spiritual man. He believed in Manda*, but beyond that, he hadn’t really thought much of it. A step over the threshold, past the airlock, and he could feel it. It was a powerful moment, seeing the walls adorned with Mythosaur skeletons, the beasts in their full fallen glory. The creatures were massive, even just as bones, the powerful tusks looming from their menacing skulls, even in death the true beasts were challenging the hunter to prove his worth. Clawed feet acted as the columns along the walls, along the massive leg bones were carved what he recognized as the most ancient variants of Mando’a. This would have been carved by the progenitors. The First generations of Mandalorians, their true parents, the Shadow Warriors, the Taung. He reached out to touch the bones, the protective shielding reacting to his near caress. The lights were warm as if truly being flames, creating an intimate atmosphere, like the glow of a waiting forge. The others were silent, and as they walked forward he saw the first of the grand displays, the very decayed but still powerful remains of Mand’alor the first. It would be wrong to call it remains, it was just bone dust and armor aged beyond touching, but the presence and weapons adorning the hand carved resting place showed that truly this warrior held the highest of honors. This too was sealed, to protect it from aging more than needed, and the digital overlay providing the artistic view of who this greatest of fathers was.

Andora was whispering softly to the children, explaining the sacred resting place they were in, every place where beskar had been carved out was now a set of armor and remains. The legends of the people who they could meet if they went further. Walking to Andora Vim rested his forehead to hers, telling her how truly proud of her he was for her great work here. He hugged her close as his armor would allow, the woman returning his embrace. Saba helped pick Pirpak up so he could look down as well, the baby babbling as if carrying on a conversation, Saba hissing along with the child. Andora suddenly started to push and thrash against his hold. No doubt her power had kicked in. 

“Sarnu'a ni.” (Forgive me.) Andora let out a scream as Vim plunged his vibroblade into her shoulder, easily breaking the plasteel. In a methodical manner he used the moment to sweep her leg out and with a horrible thud he knew he had dislocated her ankle. He did not need to cause more suffering than absolutely necessary. He left the blade in her shoulder, blood running from the wound and staining her base layers. His blood covered hand ripped the saber from her belt, leaving her with just the shield. All his years of butchering force users gave him the edge here. He heard the saber light up behind him from Saba, the teen hesitating with confusion to strike him, no doubt trying to understand his betrayal. He used the grapple cable to bind her feet, yanking hard and sending the girl crashing to the floor, her hand bracing her as she tried to kick herself free, the saber shutting off as it dropped from her hand. He hated this, but he had to do it. A current of electricity ran along the cable, his heart breaking at the child crying out. It was for their own good. Pirpak was crying out in fear, trying to hide from Vim. 

“Ni malyasa'yr va o'yarida e sto verd'ika.” (I won’t bury anymore children) Vim walked out of the sacred chamber, cleaning his bloody hand with a cloth as he took the saber and flew back up to the prepared deception. With the roll of his shoulders Vim tossed the cloth off the cliff. His soldier is already handling the Musicians as Gideon’s ship drops from hyperspace. He pulled up the comm link, sending a message in dadita (mandalorian morse code), receiving one back quickly afterwards. He marches up to take his place where Andora had planned to stand. He pressed his hand to his Iron heart, feeling Ree by his side, and as her lovely voice ghosted through his ears, he looked up, ready to march to Manda* and meet her again. 

“Where is Andora?” The leading musician hissed at him, and he just brought his finger up a silencing motion, pointing up at the enemy. That seemed to get the civilian to fall in line, them moving into position as they awaited their cue in this performance. The camera light flickered on, Vim holding up the saber handle. “Par Rimaragr! Par Manda'yaim! Mhi akaanir gupu sto!” (For Freedom! For Mandalore! We fight once more!) Vim shouts with his full will in the words. The musicians pick up their cue, the Dha Werda Verda the most beautiful song he had heard since Ree sung her last love song to him. He aimed his blaster up at the ship, taking a deep breath as his scope was at its absolute limit, but he could feel it in his heart, this would have hit the bridge. The plasma bolt flew for as long as it could, its energy dissipating long before it ever broke the atmosphere. The camera swung up to expose the looming threat. He saw the massive discharge of white light, the sonic boom of it breaching the atmosphere as it raced towards them. Vim did not move but he shouted at the musicians to take cover. The banner poles did indeed catch the blast and send it to the ground, the ground rumbling as the energy reacted to the trace amounts of Beskar on the soil. The instruments blasted apart like shrapnel. The heat was immeasurable, Vim standing tall even as the light washed over him. 

“Kotep verd, olaror taabir yaim at ni.” (Brave soldier, come marching home to me.) Ree’s soft voice and beautiful face greeting him as the light faded. He stepped into her arms as his body fell away behind him, because he was marching home now. His tours of duty over.

* * *

  
(recommended song for Paz’s state of mind: Magnum Bullets by Night Runner)

The comms channel was silent as they all watched the blast happen. Seeing the scene as the blast smoke was blown away by the winds...every war banner in burning tatters. The ground had been a rich mix of reds, yellows, and brown stones. Now it was an ugly grey beige from where the stone had been scorched. Cracks visible in the cliff face. The projections gone, and only the meager number of one hundred musicians, and two verd. All of them knocked prone while their instruments were piles of blasted metal fragments. Vim wasn’t getting up. The old man wasn’t getting up. His red armor scored black, giving off steam, chest plate unmoving. The camera wasn’t moving, but the pained cries for help ringing out from the possible survivors coming in as a backdrop. 

Paz felt his hands shaking, his co-pilot taking the yoke over for him. As much as Paz was angry at Vim, it soaked in. He might be the only Vizsla left. Somehow he had thought the old man invincible, untouchable, as steady as the stones. Some childish part of him had expected the old man to fly up and punch his way through the transparisteel into the bridge, take Gideon's head and laugh like it had been some big joke. To call all of them all di’kuts (idoits) and get back home to drink. His Abr had told them all stories of his glorious hunts, of the force users he had bested in combat. It felt wrong, this was wrong. His Abr couldn’t die like this. His Abr was the embodiment of “Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur.” (Today is a good day for someone else to die.) The old man had survived the civil wars, the clone wars, the rebellion, for him to die like this...it was unforgivable. His Abr deserved to die in a hunt, in a fight, not like this. 

“Jii!” (Now!) Din’s voice comes breaking through the silence. All the ships watching as the commendered Carrack ship was rammed at full speed into the section of the Imperial cruiser where the blast had come from, an explosion as the entire freighter slams in at full ramming speed at the point of the weapon. The ships defensive shields shimmered as they tried to stop the damage but the physical impact was more than the shields could handle. The Verd at Paz’s side took over the flying as Paz dropped down to the deck below. His ship flying straight towards the flight deck where they knew the swarm of Tie fighters would start to drop out like wasps to defend the nest. They needed to keep the Imps in the ship. If they could take over the hangar bays, they could choke this monster from the inside. There were other cargo carrying ships charging in, all of them loaded with the snarling Durgolosks Saba had brought from home. The Mandalorian ships slammed into the hanger bay, The sound of weapons fire auditory as the other ships focused on ion charge bombardments to disable the hyperdrive and engines, planning to send the ship adrift till the Republic came to pick up the trash. The landing bays of the ships dropped, finally letting out the starving beasts. 

The massive creatures came rushing out of the cages, their tongues lashing through the air, their six eyes independently swiveling on their heads, following the movement of the troopers, some troopers rushing to the waiting Tie fighters and others trying to find cover. Each creature was huge as they finally stood up to their full heights. There were six of these monstrous things unloaded, their maws opening enough to swallow a human whole. Fangs as long as a daggers glistening with drool, their clawed hands tucked into their chests as the tentacles that protrude from their arms drag on the metal floor, the scraping sound of their poisonous barbs on the metal awful to hear. Each creature had six legs, walking forward out of synch with each leg the way a spider crawls when disoriented, the fatty meat filled torsos of the creatures nearly spinning on these naraled limbs as they rushed forward chasing the only food they had been able to reach in days. Metal against the boney talons on their legs making an awful clacking. The troopers open fire on the creatures, their brown and white striped bodies almost like carnivorous trees rushing at them as the creatures towered at least 15 feet, some extending their necks to grab troopers trying to climb into the ships. The blaster bolts stung the beasts, but their desperate hunger and rage seemed to ignore the nuisance, instead turning to attack the offending meal. 

The troopers watched in horror as the tentacles whipped across the room, any soul unlucky enough to be caught in the sweep letting out a terrified scream as the barbs cracked their armor, piercing their flesh, and the lucky ones died from this stage of the hunt. The unlucky ones being snatched up in the creatures mouths, the fangs crunching through armor, meat, and bone with ease, shaking their victims in their mouth, slamming bodies against the walls to end the struggle, blood spraying out, painting the white walls in crimson sprays. Others were too frightened to move, being crushed under foot as the beasts rampaged their way through the room, slacking their stress, hunger, and confusion with the deaths of the prey. The creatures found their ways to the massive doors that waves of troopers would come through, smelling an overload of prey and fear, the creatures contort their bodies to crawl into these organized crevasies after the fleeing food. 

The alarm was blaring out, trying to alert the crews to the various points of the ships under attack. Once the creatures had charged into the hallways the Barabels and Mandalorians rushed out, the Mandalorians hacking the ships systems to lock down the doors to the hangers on both sides of the ships. In a constant race against the systems and the crew to keep the interior doors open to allow the durgolosks to rampage while keeping the crews grounded. The Barabels quickly dispatched any surviving troopers, tossing the bodies out of the magnetic airlock, uncaring if the body was dead or a paralyzed foe. The Barabels were in a battle frenzy themselves, excited by the slaughter and to have the Imps on the defensive so quickly, but they obediently followed through with sabotaging the ships, taking great enthusiasm in the destruction they could do, to cripple the great threat, to annihilate the prey who already bared its neck once before. 

Satisfied they had crippled the ships, Paz ordered the massive hunting party to him, as Alor’ad (captain) he needed to conduct this part of the fight. Din outside flying with the others, coordinating bombing runs and picking off Ties that had managed to launch. Paz needed to take the other hanger. The Barabels were on his six at the mention of their own chance to join the hunt. The Doors were opened enough for them to rush through. Their splicers trying to lock the durgolosks out of the hallways Paz needed to use. His armor was singing with the blaster bolts hitting him as he marched into the ship, the flashing red lights blocked out by his scanners. He opened fire with his heavy blaster, watching as trooper after trooper fell before him. The Barabels rushing in and goring the troopers with claws and blades. Ripping limbs from torsos with brutish strength. The snapping of necks and the gurgling of lungs filling with blood as some were unlucky enough to end up in the jaws of the Barabel’s. The Barabel’s own impressive fangs sink into unarmored necks, the troopers being shaken like chew toys before the chunks of flesh were ripped away. The chunks swallowed by the Barabel’s, blood coating everything. Paz felt the darkness of his emotions reflecting in these moments, each successful swipe of claws leaving the Imperial hallways coated in bloody claw marks. The Vizsla symbol painted over and over again with his foe's lost lives. 

Today was a good day for everyone else to die. 

Paz grabbed a trooper running away from him, using his jetpack to fly his heavily armored body into the oncoming wave of troopers, dragging the man along before stopping short, letting the man go, the force flinging the man into the turret gun being set up in the hallway. The thud as the body crashed in, bowling them over was not as satisfying as their terrified shouts as Paz took the gun over, his own weapon close to overheating, mowing down the fleeing soldiers, and the Barabels rushing in behind him to secure their territory. The other ships of Barabel’s and Verd landing, the groups following their own captains to help defend the hanger. Savage war cries and chants mixing with the Mando’a commands in a symphony of war. 

Reaching the other hanger Paz watched as the troopers hesitated, trying to decide the best course of action, and he noticed more than a few escape pods were floating out on the starry sky. The Barabels flooded in behind him, rushing past and slaughtering every trooper they found, pleas for mercy ignored and promptly silenced. He let them kill their fill of the filth, flying up to the top most row of fighters, dropping grenades into the cockpits, controlling their trigger time from his wrist mounted controls. Locking down the entrances both fighter wings of the ship were secured, all opponents would have to be funneled in, and the psychological aspect of seeing the slaughter would no doubt rob them of any real fighting spirit. Paz called in his position, checking the other side was still secured. Some of their ships were retreating after having spent their weapon payload,or from critical damage. Din’s ship and a few others dropped into the free hanger. They were now inside the cruiser, having disabled the largest threat, and trapping Gideon onboard, and from the cheers of the pilots and their splicers it seemed they had successfully crippled the hyperdrive and engines. Now it was just the war of attrition, waiting for help to come. They knew they were just as trapped as the Imps, if they tried to leave, they would likely get blasted by the weapons systems on the retreat. So far they had suffered minor losses, 200 dead, and a good couple dozen or so injured. Spirits were high. 

Din clasped Paz’s shoulder, other soldiers cheering high on life, on the thrill of battle, of the power of the hunters. All of it just noise buzzing in Paz’s ears. He wanted Gideon’s head. 

* * *

  
(Recommended for Andora’s state of mind: Monster from the Frozen Broadway Musical)

Saba, Pirpak, and Andora were deep in meditation, their minds on the ship, the two children working together to mentally nudge the creatures down the correct pathways, aiding the war the only way they could now. Andora was helping to bridge the gap between the dead and the living, the stab wound healed, but the ankle would need to be properly set. It was easier to utilize their powers here, the lights of the warriors here at rest allowing them to draw from them in both power and knowledge. The drum beats of the war songs match the pounding of their hearts, the creatures onboard the massive ship above thankfully too weak to resist the suggestions made. Andora was straining to keep up with the kids, her powers at their limits, the kids easily outpacing hers, but she would die being useful if that’s what it took. She filtered through the throng of voices to keep it useful, keeping the more abusing language and feelings focused on herself, not wanting the kids to feel those things. 

The entire cave was buzzing with the massive discharge of energy from the blast that had rattled the entire cliff, Andora purposely keeping her mind off the reality that she may have just walked the entire orchestra into an early grave. She couldn’t weep for the dead till the fight was over. Blood was drying on her base layers the skin forced together by pure pain at the betrayal. She forced those thoughts out of her mind. She needed to keep her heart light, to keep the links between the dead and the living positive, to strengthen their powers, not weigh them down. 

Saba and Pirpak were leading the beasts to help push the troopers in circles, to keep them busy to keep them from fixing the ship and taking their fighters as hostages in hyperspace. To chase them away from the hangers, to attack a trooper instead of their side. It was exhausting as the battle dragged on, an hour already elapsed since the damaging blow to the Duchess. Help had to come, it needed to come soon or else their limits would be exceeded. It felt like other lights, lights beyond the cave would join them in their battle meditation, but those lights faltered and fell back as the others failed to keep up. Some would rally over and over, weaker each time, but they could not even thank these lights. 

By hour two Pirpak was beyond his limit, passing out with a gasping gurgle, unable to give anything more, his breathing weak from exertion. Andora had to be at peace with the horrific sight, trying to calm her emotions, least Saba’s own concentration falter with her failure. 

The knife wound opened back up as Andora poured all of herself into helping Saba by hour three. 

Saba’s red scales looked faded as she collapsed, body thudding to the floor as everything ached. She was weak, nothing left to give as hour four rolled in. Andora clutching the small crystal that Pirpak had been wearing, not sure why she was clutching it, but seeing both of her children pushed this far she squeezed the crystal with enough force to cause it to cut into her flesh and be coated in blood. 

She would keep going, she was dedicated to giving everything she was for them, for the ones she loved. She could take every pound of pain, of suffering, if it would spare them an ounce. She was focused on her dedication, on her unwavering love and faith, on her will to protect at the expense of herself. 

The crystal had never been hers, had never even so much as pinged more than a little for Pirpak, but her blood and will soaked into the crystal. Forcing her will on the stone as she embraced her suffering, at peace with the pain if it was hers, and hers alone. Finally she collapsed along with the kids under the watchful gaze of the Ka’ra. Feeling icy cold against the beskar of the cave floor, the stone humming in her bleeding hand. 

The once clear crystal now a pitch black.

* * *

Chapter end.


	25. Dar'Tome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Review Responses: 
> 
> Anne: I will miss Vim very much too, but yeah, all good warriors have to eventually march on home, so am happy for him in that bittersweet way. 
> 
> AHumanFemale: Well sorry to have left you on edge for a month, Christmas took up a bunch of time.  
> But get ready to cushion your butt, we finally get to destress.
> 
> Lexikatt11: I am so happy to hear that this story captured your emotions. As for more, read to the end. lol
> 
> To all reviewers, bookmarkers, kudos leavers, ect, thank you so much for your time! It all motivated me and kept me going. 
> 
> Some star wars lore:  
> For Barabel's they have a god called the Hungry One, which is what they believe lives inside of them and gives them that push for rage that helps them survive and overcome foes.

Din threw the last of his grenades down the hallway, the doors motors whirling angrily as it was trying to open. The beeping of the grenades as they ticked down echoing out as everyone dived for cover, pained yells as more white armored bodies dropped to the floor. 

The spear tips were jammed into the door tracks, leaving only a space large enough for one of two soldiers to pass through. Gunners took rotations shooting the encroaching storm troopers. The Barabels had ripped open the vents and started to crawl through the duct system, dropping into rooms where troopers had barricaded themselves in and laying waste to the huddled groups. They were taking losses as well, but to them it was their chance to make a truly frightening first impression on the rest of the galaxy, to prove their fighting prowess and carve a bloody path to glory. 

“We have a group here trying to surrender, saying they are Mandalorians and want out. What’s the call Mando?” Cara’s voice came in over their comms channel. “They took off their helmets and tossed over their guns.”

“Shoot the whole lot of them, if they’re willing to turn traitor twice they ain’t worth shit.” Paz growled into the comms, his gun still on cooldown from mowing down the last lot of troopers trying to breach the line. Din thinking it over. 

“Keep them out of the hanger, it's the Republic’s job to sort out who wants to surrender. If they soak up blaster shots, it's their problem.” The line went silent, a horrified yell echoing out from the hallway as a Barabel chased a trooper towards the hanger, leaping on the fleeing soldier and ripping the helmet off before smashing the victims’ skull into the floor, a uproar of cheers and hissing laughs from the others at the brutal display. The slow trickle of kills was making it harder to control the Barabels. Even their own leaders were antsy and seeked to advance. 

The Durgolosks had stopped rampaging, the surviving four huddled up to rest in the large cafeteria as the only open space they could fit easily. The two creature corpses blocking hallways in the barracks where they had found the most food. 

The ship was drifting in the atmosphere, a horrible orbiting reminder of the sacrifices the warrior clans were making for the pacifists below. No city scrambled their own security forces, instead of rising up to fight for their own survival they hunkered down, hoping for the New Republic to send a force to fix this for them. The entire planet and sector content to leave their fates in the hands of the small force sieging the capital ship. Din had hoped they would have at least the security forces here to help them start to advance deeper into the ship, but hour four ticked by and still nothing. 

Paz was the biggest risk to the stability of their position, the soldier wanting to drown his pain in the death of his enemies. If Din kept trying to keep Paz and the Barabels in line, they were bound to force their way past the line and break down the chain of command. He needed to lean into the chaos. Into the fact that he was going to lose control, and turn it into an advantage. 

“Paz...take a group with you to overrun the bridge. We need to take the main systems to give our splicers a break.” Din calls into the comms. “Disable the weapons system, the injured and dead need to be evacuated.” Paz reloaded his weapons charges, the floor littered with the spent cartridges from the weapons they have used. A call goes out, the Barabels with no blood yet on their weapons and claws eagerly piling behind him as he exits out towards the interior of the ship. Din can hear the distant echoes of screams mixing with blaster fire, but the lack of Troopers advancing gives him hope that Paz and the others are fine. 

Paz was on the warpath, blasting troopers without even sparing a thought to the possible cries of surrender. Letting the Barabels kill their fill of the injured and hiding. There was nothing honorable or merciful about Paz’s warpath, it was a slaughter. He would take Gideon’s head, he was going to mount the man’s head as his prized trophy and prove the Vizsla’s were the best warriors. For his father, his grandfather, his cousins, his uncles, his aunts, everyone in the tribe that had fallen. Gideon would pay for all of them. Paz leveled his blaster, troopers dropping or barricading themselves as he marched, blaster bolts pinging off his armor, barely slowing his steps. He could hear the death cries as some of the Barabels fell from blaster bolts behind him. He had no time to stop. The doors locked themselves ahead of him, trying to pin him down, the Barabels using the vents to drop on the other side and forcing open the door by shredding the troopers on the other side, smashing the control console with the heads of their foes as Paz walked past them. As they finally make their way to the bridge Paz calls out for them to hold as he sees the explosives rigged up around the sealed doors. He was never good at disarming traps the patient way. His armor could handle the blast, but the Barabels would get bathed in radiation. 

Telling them to take cover he shoots at the charge closest to the detonator before taking a knee to hold his position, feeling the heat, force, and tingle of radiation trying to break through his environment sealed suit under his beskar. His armor is almost searingly hot, and his scanners were knocked out from the radiation blast, but he didn’t need them, he was going to strangle Gideon with his own hands. The Barabels came up behind him, helping him to his feet, their scaly skin a bit warm but they seemed no worse for wear. The Bridge doors opened as far as they could on the track. “Take them alive.” Paz ordered, marching into the bridge. He saw the Barabels easily herding the two trembling officers to the center of the room, the soldiers ripping the room apart as they searched for others. Gideon wasn’t here. The officers could barely hold their blasters as the massive aliens loomed over them, clawed hands shredding human skin as they yank the weapons away. The officers yell in pain, only to be silenced as they were lifted by their throats and shaken till they quieted down to whimpers. 

“WHERE!” Paz could feel every fiber of his being tensed with the depths of loathing and hatred, breathing heavily as he could feel his blood rushing with rage and heat. The officers gulp. 

“He and the other officers took the escape pods once the ship was rammed.” The younger man choked out, tears rolling down his cheeks. “He told us to hold the line...he left hours ago.” 

“Pirunir sur'haaise.” (Make their eyes water.) Paz’s voice was a cold heartless command. He couldn’t care less, the defeated Imps being eagerly torn to shreds between his troops, their screams turning into gasping bloody gurgles. The gnashing of teeth as they consumed the defeated. He sat at the communications console, giving the victory signal over the ship's system, unable to enjoy the moment as now his rage was impotent. The coward had fled hours ago...they could have had him the dar’manda* (soulless) pacifists had lifted a finger. If they had sent out ships to take the escape pods into custody. He was just out there, still alive while good soldiers were dead. He ripped off his helmet, slamming it in a rage into the console before him. What good was his vows, his path, when he couldn’t even kill his enemy! His screams of anger as he smashed the console broke down into silent sobs. Gideon took everyone from him. Took everything from him. He slumped down, cursing softly as his anger turned to grief, the adrenaline gone, the hunt over. Only blood left staining the metal red again. 

He didn’t notice when someone tenderly took his helmet from his limp grip and slipped it once more over his head, letting him hide his grief under the unfeeling visor. 

* * *

(Hours earlier)

Cal and Cere had dropped out of hyperspace and flew their ship towards the capital city, trying to use it as a point to find the cliff face they had seen. They could possibly save the lives of the people hit by the blast. As they landed they could hear the cries of pain from the living. With their medkits fully stocked they lower the ramp and rush out to care for the survivors. Methodical in their work the pair of jedi pull shrapnel from flesh, stitching what they could and cauterizing what they couldn’t, gauze, salves, bacta sprays and tourniquets for the worst of the injuries. Unfortunately, of the one hundred that had come, only seventy of them seemed like they would survive. It was long work as the jedi loaded the living onto their ship, Cere staying behind to organize the dead while Cal flew off towards the city to save who he could. 

Cere closed eyes and pushed mouths shut, trying to make their deaths seem more peaceful than it had been. When she reached the last two bodies, there was just a still steaming pile of ashes starting to be blown away by the breeze and cracked plates of armor. With as much care as she could she gathered the ashes into the empty boxes she had. They were old food storage boxes, not the most appropriate of resting places but she had no better containers. The armor broke apart even at the slightest of jostles, the beskar looking worse off than the rusted iron hulls of ships that sailed seas. Cere didn’t have any fondness for the Mandalorians or their armor, but even she knew this was wrong. Beskar was supposed to withstand anything, to see it crumble at a touch was chilling. 

Having set aside the dead Cere adjusted her breathing apparatus, checking her remaining air as she waited on Cal to return. Hopefully they had let him in. Looking up at the ship it had been hours, the ship drifting as the planet turned slowly beneath it. Where was the child? Hopefully he wasn’t up in all that mess. Cere reached out with her powers, trying to feel for the child in the force. He was below her, as was another light. 

They were below her! Cere struggled as she climbed town the cliff face, her hands aching as she gripped the rocks, her heart racing when she felt stones shift beneath her feet, and when she lost a foothold she had to use her powers to keep her from tumbling to her death. She finally reached the cave mouth, aching, sore, and sweating from exertion. Coming inside she rips off her mask, taking gulps of air only for the smell of blood to come over her. She sees the child and the two larger bodies. She rushes over, picking him up and feeling his pulse, relief flooding her to find he is only sleeping. She gently placed him into his crib, checking the other alien, finding a strong pulse, the young female alien too large for her to take with her. As Cere moved towards the third body, seeing the puddle of blood, the skin washed out and without touching it she could sense no light left in the woman’s body. The body was dying, and it felt as if the woman was gone already. Cal’s voice came over Cere’s comm, trying to find her. 

“The Republic ships arrived, and that Razor Crest is coming down, its trying to get word on-”

“The child is here, I can’t carry the others out.” Cere answers back, moving the closed crib out to the cave entrance. The comm channel chimes back in, a modulated voice coming over it. 

“Show me where you are.” Cere was on the cliff face, turning on her saber to wave as a beacon. Above her Cere could see as the Razor Crest’s side panel opens, a shape dropping out the side in a dive bomb, the ship following at a safer pace behind. The jetpack flared to life as Din dropped towards the bright light being waved from the ledge, seeing the pram as the weight on his chest lifted just a bit. Zalle and Tokor were standing on the open edge of the ship, looking for their daughter. When the Crest dropped close enough they leaped onto the cliffside, Cere pointing them deeper in the cave. Din put his hand on the pram, opening it quickly to check on the kid, those large brown eyes flickering open and a soft coo escaping before Din closed it again as a massive relief of tension rushed through him. Cere turned off the saber, realizing now that this man had never wanted to let the child go, not because of what was lacking in her, but because of how much the child meant to him. Zalle was cradling Saba as she walked from the cave, leaping back onto the Crest. Tokor did not come back. Cere joined the exhausted looking fighters on the ship, the armored man and the pram joining them. 

Saba was curled into her mothers embrace, a spare blanket passed over as the young Jedi was coddled by a relieved parent. The Crest landed away from the dead on the cliff, Cere seeing the New Republic ships finally in the sky. Cal was waiting for her, a New Republic transport ship landing to help with the dead. 

Zalle hissed out orders in their native language, her soldiers nodding in understanding as the Crest lands. The Barabels looked around the cliffside, trying to see any spare persons they could drag off to finish their longfang’s commands. They marched into the transport ship, the pair carrying out two unarmored persons who looked to be in binders and gagged, the Republic medics and guards busy on checking the corpses and failed to notice their surrendered prisoners being carted off. They tossed the gagged prisoners on their shoulders and started to climb down the cliff face, disappearing from sight. 

It was a somber process as sheets and stretchers were brought out, the bodies prepared to be identified and sent off to be claimed. Finally the capital city’s defense forces were on route out here, coming now that the danger had passed. Din found his steps slow and full of dread as he walked over to the dead, scanning for familiar faces among them. He didn’t know any of them. The New Republic guards seemed too busy with their tasks to recognize the Crest, the unregistered ships from other mandalorians had already loaded up and jumped back to Concord Dawn. He didn’t see Andora anywhere. He recognized the two Jedi, walking over to them as they seemed to be giving their chain codes to the Republic guard who he ignored when asked to give the same.

“The woman with me before...did you see her?” The modulated voice asked Cere who was picking up the boxes of remains, unsure which side they should be given too. Din was positive she hadn’t been among the civilians in the footage, but he had a sinking feeling. 

“She bled out in that cave.” There was no point in sugar coating it for the warrior. Cere caught the look Cal sent her at the harsh comment, instead turning to the mandalorian with the boxes. The armor was shining as he was already rushing over the edge of the cliff before she could even ask. Another armored warrior came up, the golden helm and fur trim making her stand out. She took the boxes without a word, her imposing visor ending the debate, she was taking the dead. 

* * *

Tokor was careful not to touch her as he waited, knowing that the Hungry One that lurked in her would feed off friend or foe. He heard the others come in, seeing the humans they had brought and he nodded towards Andora’s limp body, her skin devoid of its healthy color. The two brought the prisoners over, careful to avoid touching their war sister in this state while exposing more skin on the prisoners. Forcing their victims to touch Andora’s skin. It takes a moment before the Hungry One begins to feed and her flesh starts to weave and mend itself as the man screams in agony into the gag. He seems to wither at the touch. Her hand grips the man, her body sitting up and her eyes a horrid acid yellow as the man's life drains into her. The Barabels drop the other man, Andora reaching out to him, his life being added to her own, the second one draining faster. This was what they had meant by calling her a cannibal. With both men dead she was panting greedily for air, her energy radiating off her in dark waves. Tokor picked up the dead men, walking out ahead of her in case her powers lashed out. As he walked out he saw the human in armor outside the cave, pushing past his clan’s men with the bodies, tossing them without any ceremony over the ledge. He could feel the Hungry One coming, snapping orders for the others to go while he rushed after them, he had no desire to be near the Hungry One, for it had no mercy. Din shouted up at the fleeing Barabels, but they gave no answer. He then heard the ragged breathing, Cara’s words about the encounter with the Hutt in his mind, the dead husks of men tossed away, and the animalistic yellow eyes gleaming from the darkness of the cave. 

Andora was in a daze, everything felt like she was swimming from below the depths of an ocean, sound and sight a hazy fog before her, and she felt like she was freezing cold and boiling hot at the same time. With as much grace as she could she crawled towards the blinding light ahead of her, stripping off the false armor she wore. Wanting to feel less constricted, less like she was trapped in a body far too small for herself. There was a cacophony of voices in her head as she felt her body reconnect to herself, the voices calling to keep out the unworthy. She was in her flesh, rising to stand but yet the voices were the one directing the swirling mass of roiling energy inside her. Like a pulsar that had over fed the energy was ready to burst from her and the voices knew exactly what they wanted from her. Stumbling from the cave she was breathing heavily, her eyes yellow and unfocused. Only aware of vague shapes and the dull thrum of a distant voice. 

Her body twisted in an unnatural fashion as she felt the energy directed toward the stones around her, her hands snapping shut, her nails digging into her own flesh as the stones rumbled behind her. Her mouth opened in a pained yell as the energy rapidly escaped her body. As the energy left her body she finally felt herself again, blinking groggily as she becomes aware of the cracking of the cliff face behind her, strong arms grabbing her close and pulling her away as the stones came sliding down, the entire cliff rumbling as the weak point spreads from the small collapse needed to rebury the cave to the cliff side coming down. The blast from the duchess had weakened the rocks, and tons of earth was rapidly rushing to the ground below. Andora was suddenly aware of the ground no longer beneath her feet as she was held against the cold beskar, it was like a splash of water over her face. Blinking up she finally sees Din’s familiar visor, and feels her lungs starting to ache from the poor air quality. He flew wonderfully or she was just too out of sorts to care, him dropping her at the transport ship, his voice wonderful and clear and none of it processing in her mind. 

She could feel her face split into a smile of relief. Din was alive, he had made it back. Then her mind was catching up on the memory she had not been alone in the cave. 

“Where are the kids?” Her voice was rough and cracked. She swore she could feel skin ripping in her throat from dehydration due to the horrible environment and the scream. She could hear his soothing voice, but still none of it was registering in her mind. Her face must have shown her frustration as she looked over to where he pointed at the Razor Crest, noticing the pram and Saba’s dress skirt. She pressed her face into his curasis, the tears flowing before she was pulled away from him by the medical staff. She didn’t struggle with them, thankful they were alive. 

* * *

It had been a few days since the battle, the political fallout still unfolding but the spin the Pacifist government was putting on it was the last straw. Andora was packing up her belongings from her apartment, ready to leave the whole planet for the foreseeable future. The museum had been in a tough spot, she understood, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t livid with them. They had fired her for theft of Tarre’s helmet, which she hadn’t returned yet, and at this rate she had no plans to. The fact she had brought back Mereel’s armor hadn’t mattered. In an act of petty revenge Andora has removed every last piece of information about her heritage project, leaving the museum without her work, without her achievements. The tomb of Mand’Alor would remain hidden till a true Mand’alor came home. When they had found out about her being hostage for Grakkus the New Republic had dragged her away to be interrogated. Adding injury to the insult, the academic world revoked her credentials for authentication of artifacts since she had been forced to sign documents under duress. 

She had spent all her credits, she had been fired, kicked out from the only career field she could pursue, and yet, despite all the anger, all the dissatisfaction. There was also this sense of peace. The life she had was gone, as dead as she should have been in that cave. Her future was open, uncertain, terrifyingly free. Under her top she was wearing the small crystal still, it was no longer clear but a strange black. The droids were outside her apartment carrying her things to the ship she was taking to Concord Dawn. These people were the worst of cowards. They couldn’t bring themselves to even be grateful to the members of the band that had died, not soldiers but Pacifists like them.

The Barabels were getting an even worse treatment, they were being called uncivilized, brutes, savages, and the New Republic was barely considering them a viable culture. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. They were Heroes, they gave their lives for these wretches who had hunkered down and waited to die and have their children stolen. 

Saba had one powerful ally in the whole ordeal, General Organa. Andora wished she could help more but this was beyond her skills. The politics needed for bringing the Barabel’s forward to the galactic stage was better left to the former Princess. 

Her mind was a swirl of memories as she entered the ship with her moving boxes, most of the furniture she had left in the apartment since she honestly didn’t care for it anymore. The further she got from Mandalore, the lighter she felt, a smile coming to her lips as Concord Dawn grew closer. The droids finished bringing her things down from the ship and loaded onto the cargo carrier. She paid them the last of her credits, leading the floating flatbed loaded with her things towards her Abr’s home. Her home. Some of the villagers came to help move her things into the building, the townsman taking back the flatbed as she unpacked boxes in the home. She took the room she and Din had shared before the battle as her own. She then spent the late afternoon adding new locks and defenses to the abode since she was not Vim, and the house was no longer safe off his reputation alone. Finally the sunset, a knock coming to her door, Din standing there as he came to escort her to the funeral for the fallen. It was a silent walk to the field, the survivors marching from the darkness to join the ceremony. Paz hadn’t spoken since the battle, or at least that’s what Andora had been told, it seemed all he had done was stand guard over the dead, only having left to find a proper burial container for Vim. Din had to lead the words of remembrance and praise, starting up the funeral chant, her voice quick to follow, the gathering all singing their grief and joy, the truest of Aay’han felt for a warrior who died such honorable and noble deaths. It was well after Midnight before it was just the four of them; Din, Pirpak, Andora, and Paz. Andora gently scooped up the sleepy child, cuddling him close, having missed the child in the days they had been separated. Din took the kid and the key she gave him to her new home, leaving the last Vizsla’s alone for a private moment of grief. 

“Paz…” Her voice drifted over to him on the breeze, and he didn’t respond. “I’m not running away this time.” She put her hand on his, squeezing it to get some read on him. “The Barabel’s are going home tomorrow, and Saba is under the tutelage of Princess Leia to help her people.” He didn’t respond. “The Armorer left already, and the clans are scattering after this.” Barely a lift of his helmet to stare deeper into the fire. “He’s leaving tomorrow morning to finish finding a Jedi to train Pirpak.” His fingers twitched around her hand finally. 

“So you’ll be gone tomorrow.” His voice was horse with disuse.

“I want nothing more than to go with him, I want to be his riduur. But right now, you need to not be alone. Clan Vizsla can’t end like this, we have to be better than what came before us.” 

“And how do we do that.” He sounded broken, like the fighting spirit had been beaten from him. 

“First, I tell you I was wrong. Your father was family, and no matter what he did, I am proud of him for raising you, and thank you for loving my brother and fighting by his side when I couldn’t.” His hand gripper hers back. “Next step, you have to forgive yourself. It's the hardest step, and the one you’ll have to repeat over and over again.” 

“I broke my vow, I removed my helmet. I can’t be a verd anymore.” He rasped out, trembling as he moved to take his helmet off. Ready to throw himself on the pile of ashes and just be done with it. 

“Abr didn’t follow that ancient rule, and he had bigger kill counts than we could ever hope to have. It's not about armor, it's not about weapons. Akaanir jorcu gar kar'taylir darasuum meg cuyir sulyu gar, va jorcu gar or'parguur meg cuyir a'yaou be gar.” (Fight because you love what's behind you, not because you hate what's in front of you.) Andora wasn’t expecting Paz to hug her close, crushing her to his chest as he let himself feel his grief. He hadn’t heard that since Adkote died, and he realized that he had forgotten it. He had been fighting all these years hating the Empire, hating the pacificts, hating everyone that dared have any pleasure in life while the ones he loved were dead. The tribe had given him joy, had given him happiness, purpose and a way to make sense of his life, but yet every time he marched he had left that joy behind and used his hatred to fuel him. Andora knocked on his Vizor, and he had to put her down. “Now it's cold and I am going home, come be useful and at least brood inside the house so the rest of us can sleep since you insist on going till you break.” 

“I probably have to redo your locks.” He said, the first hint of humor in his voice she had heard in ages. He did follow her back to the home, seeing her lock the door behind them before moving to the closet, starting pulling out blankets and pillows. He remembered in his childhood the kids all sleeping out in this room to spend time together, understanding she was putting him ahead of herself. He stopped her, tossing the things back into the closet. “Vod’ika, if he leaves in the morning, go to him. I won’t make this last night harder.” She started crying, thanking him as she went to the room to spend her last few hours with Din. 

* * *

Din held Andora to his chest, the blindfold firmly tied around her face as he thought about the fact he would be leaving tomorrow. He understood why she couldn’t come. Paz needed family right now. He was half tempted to delay so she and Pirpak could stay together longer but...Cere had warned him. Andora’s display of powers was violent, destructive, and dangerous for her and those around her. Cere had explained that the powers Andora displayed were dark in nature, inherently evil in the eyes of the Jedi. Pripak needed to find a Jedi master to teach him proper control of his powers or else the rockslide Andora had caused would pale in comparison to the damage the child could do with his raw level of power. It took a massive effort on her part to accomplish it, but even Andora had said he was stronger than her by leagues. As much as he wanted her, wanted the family they could be. His responsibility was to finish the quest and do what was right by the kid. And maybe when he was ready, once he was trained. The kid would come back to be his son once more. 

Saba had tried to give Din the location of her master, but Vim’s electric current had destroyed the chip. She had been distraught at the discovery, but her new political tutor had promised she could get her back in touch with him. However if Din couldn’t wait to find Master Skywalker, he could start from Tatooine to track him down, and that there had been a Mandalorian on that planet so he could possibly find more of them to help. 

It was barely dawn, but he knew staying longer would just be harder. He kissed her forehead as he gave her his half of the vows, her nuzzling into his heat and whining as he pulled away, but she didn’t rise to follow him. He picked up Pirpak, and passed Paz who had fallen asleep sitting up in full armor. It wasn’t till the Razor Crest was halfway to Tatooine when the child seemed to realize that it was just them again. 

* * *

Andora and Paz had settled into a better familial relationship. She had missed having a big brother, and he was starting to live for more than the fight. He had accidentally taken up Vim’s place in the town, training the kids in weapons, standing guard in shifts with Andora, and she had been working at trying to make herself useful by tracking down stolen relics and Paz helping her retrieve them with his skills. It did not pay well, barely enough for fuel, but Paz and her had never been closer. She had started wearing Ree’s old armor, the pieces didn’t fit perfectly, but it was better than constantly getting injured. It took Paz time to grow even remotely trusting of Xig, and while he did not give the young man his full trust, he allowed the man to make a life for himself in the town. He came over for family dinners, ones where Paz would not remove his helmet, but the two chatted easily enough. Andora had lied to Cara about Xig, shielding him from being dragged off like the rest of the death troopers, and since the New Republic had yet to come back, it seemed the others hadn’t ratted him out either. 

Paz did still take issue with Andora pestering him to take a couple wives to help regrow their clan numbers, even if he was popular with the ladies in town he was not ready for a relationship serious enough where he would bring children into the world. 

Paz stopped wearing the helmet around her, she had known his face from before his vow, and it now just felt like he needed to have that bit of connection. His little sister was never going to be a great warrior in a proper mandalorian way, but she was a great hunter of beasts. He convinced her to join the bounty guild, so she could work with him when he felt ready to hunt again, and so they could collect twice, since the relics tended to be with people they could turn in for bounties anyway. 

He was performing maintenance on their armor, her set was older and would need a proper reworking when they went to the Armorer, but he could do this much while she went to the market for supplies. He had music on in the background as he worked, having found Vim’s recordings of Adkote’s songs, enjoying hearing his cousin’s voice again. He was so focused on his work he didn’t hear anything before the violent slamming of the front door and the panicked calls of his name as Andora rushed in, panting out of breath and sweating. He forced her to sit and breath, giving her water and forcing her to calm down from her frazzled state. 

“Paz, we have to go. He’s in deep batha shit.” Paz raised a brow at that, what could Din have done that would have her this worried about him. “He took the darksaber from Gideon. He’s finished a proper succession, He’s a right and proper Mand’Alor, not acting or temporary, but like the pure beskar.” Paz was shocked but...he was happy for Din. Din would need to have guards, and he guessed that's what compelled Andora to want them to rush after her intended riduur. “One of Jango Fett’s clones and Bo Katan both know about it too.” Paz felt his heart skip a beat. Oh no. That idiot just put himself in the worst crosshairs possible. 

“We have to find him and fast.” Paz grunted out, packing his tool kit and Andora was shoving clothes, armor and weapons in bags and boxes with a frenzied compulsion. They had packed up everything they needed after half a day, Paz loudly warning the town that he had rigged the house with multiple explosives and other traps. Paz prepared his ship to leave the atmosphere, typing in the coordinates for the Armorer to fix Andora’s armor before running into this mess. 

Andora was gripping the crystal around her neck, worried about Din, but also so ready to see him again. Her hand rested on her lower stomach as she strapped in. A smile crossing her lips as she checked her calendar again. One month. She was one month pregnant, and after two more months she could share her good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank all of you dearly for reading. There will be more stories with Andora and Din, set now after season 2, the events of season 2 taking place between this story and the last section of the story. Expect some one shots, and possibly another full story.


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